


Come Away With Me

by lindieface



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Castiel Big Bang 2017, College!Cas, Drug Use, First Time, Gay Panic, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean, stoner!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 11:30:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10593129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lindieface/pseuds/lindieface
Summary: Dean can hardly believe his luck when John ditches him and Sam in a Missouri town for a month. He's determined to make the most of it while Sam finishes his junior year of high school: relaxing, enjoying life, and smoking too much weed. When a cute stranger at a local coffee shop hooks him up with his dealer brother, Dean can't help but be intrigued by Cas. As the two grow closer, will Cas turn out to be the push Dean needs to accept some hard truths about himself?





	1. Chapter 1

They were halfway between St. Louis and Kansas City when John decided it was time for a break. He left Dean and Sam in a tiny motel on the rough side of town within walking distance of a bus stop, with a stack of manky twenties and a well-worn Mastercard with the name Ezekiel Manning embossed on the front. There was still over a month left in the school year, so Sam quickly enrolled in the local high school’s junior class to finish out the semester. 

Dean had his suspicions about where John was; he caught him texting some woman called Brandy a few times. For days, he couldn’t shake the image of a trashy woman with a lurid peroxide job and head-to-toe spandex. He wasn’t complaining about his dad’s absence, though. He guessed John would be gone at least month, more if they were lucky. He hadn’t had much free time to himself in ages, and he was excited to explore their new temporary home. There was a big state university nearby, and a few smaller colleges in the area - the whole place had a very collegiate vibe that promised a little entertainment, easy one-night stands, and hopefully some cheap weed. They’d had a few rough hunts over the past few weeks, including a rougarou outside of Lafayette that left him bruised, and he planned on enjoying himself while he could.

The morning of Sam’s first day at school, Dean woke up while his brother hogged the shower. He could hear Sam’s off-tune warbling through the thin door, and he laughed to himself as he padded barefoot over to the shitty kitchenette. He slapped together a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for Sam and tucked them in the front pocket of his battered canvas backpack, frowning as he fiddled with the zipper. Kid could probably use a new one, he thought. With the room paid up through the next couple weeks, Dean might be able to spare a few bucks so Sam didn’t look like the drifters they were. 

He started a pot of coffee, peeling the plastic wrapper off the styrofoam cups before shaking a few packets of sugar into his cup. He left Sam’s black; it wasn’t a red-eye, but he also wasn’t Starbucks. Sammy could deal with the coffee they already had. He heard the water turn off and dropped down into a chair at the scratched table, stifling a yawn. At least his brother was usually good about waking himself up - after Dean got a feel for the area and started going out more, he planned on sleeping as much as he could. 

By the time the coffee was poured and Dean scrounged up a packet of powdered-sugar donuts for them to share, Sam strolled out of the bathroom looking annoyingly chipper despite the lumpy mattresses they’d both been stuck on. At sixteen, Sam looked like a baby moose: long-limbed and coltish, with a shock of hair that kept falling into his eyes. At the risk of sounding like their ex-Marine dad, Dean thought his brother could use a haircut. He nudged the extra coffee cup and the rest of the donuts over to the empty seat, pushing the chair out for Sam with his foot.

“You’ve got a while before the next bus comes,” he said. “Eat up.”

Sam grinned at him as he folded himself into the small chair. “Breakfast of champions?”

“Shut up. I’ll go to the store later, there wasn’t a lot of choice at the gas station across the street. You’ve got PB&J for lunch if you want to complain about that, too.” 

Dean kicked him under the table for good measure. Sam yawned broadly and stuffed half a donut in his mouth before picking up his coffee, shouldering his bag.

“I should probably head down there a few minutes early, just until I get used to the schedule,” Sam said. He stood up and looked down at Dean; times like this, Dean wanted to put a brick on top of the kid’s head to keep him from getting any taller. He already felt like a hobbit when Sam was around.

He shrugged. “Sure, Sammy. Whatever you want. Got the room key?”

Sam nodded and gave him a wave, unlocking the chain over the door before heading out. Dean eyed the closed door for a second before tossing back another gulp of the bitter coffee, making his way over to the front window. He pushed the curtain back a few inches and watched as his little brother loped across the parking lot, heading past the motel to where the bus station waited. Dean stood there for several minutes, his coffee cooling on the table until he saw the bus approaching. Once Sam got on and the bus trundled off with a diesel-powered groan, Dean gave a satisfied nod and shut the curtains. The whole day stretched unencumbered ahead of him, but he wanted to grab a shower first - hopefully Sam had left him some hot water.

***

Dean slipped the bus schedule in his back pocket as he climbed down to the sidewalk, the hydraulic steps raising back up behind him before the bus rumbled off again. He glanced down the street as he tried to get his bearings before heading down the block. Given the quiet atmosphere in the area, he assumed classes were in session. A few cars passed him as he strolled along, his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. His mouth still tasted bitter after the crappy motel coffee this morning, and his stomach was rumbling. He’d find a grocery store before heading back so he could feed Sam properly, but for now a second breakfast wouldn’t go amiss. 

He turned down a quaint little side street. There was an old-school tobacconist shop on the corner that he wanted to poke around in; they might be able to give him a lead on someone to buy weed from while he was here. Columbia was a college town, after all. If not to get weed and get laid, what else were college towns for? A yoga studio stood next door, and Dean slowed down as he passed the glass front to sneak a peek inside. A row of well-toned soccer moms were in downward-facing dog, not that he would ever cop to knowing what it was called. He just knew he loved the way those Lululemon yoga pants got all sheer as they stretched across their hips. Dean grinned to himself before continuing on. A few of the restaurants and bars on the street looked like they were closed, but a café further down the block caught his eye. 

He saw a neon “open” sign beckoning to him, and he waited for another car to pass before crossing in the middle of the block. It looked a little hipster-y for his taste, but they probably also had hot food and better coffee than the motel. Deciding his need for sustenance outweighed his distaste of ironic facial hair and skinny jeans, he pushed the door open and made his way inside. 

Hipster barely began to cover it. Edison bulbs glowed on each reclaimed wood table, and a staff member in skinny jeans (he knew it), Converse, and suspenders darted past him with a wide smile. That appeared to be the uniform, complete with the aggressively chipper persona. 

“You can sit wherever you want,” she trilled, setting a plank of wood with a sandwich and homemade potato chips down in front of another patron. Dean nodded and looked around, his gaze finally landing on a spot at the bar. He skirted around the cluster of tables and climbed onto one of the vintage-inspired silver stools, feeling very conspicuous as he scooted it closer to the polished mahogany bar top. 

He was reading the menu, which had naturally been printed to look like a historic newspaper, when a low voice interrupted his thoughts.

“What can I get you?”

Dean glanced up, only to be met with the brightest blue eyes he had ever run across. They were partly obscured behind a pair of black-rimmed glasses, but that did nothing to dim the intelligent gaze that watched him. The young man smiled at him and waited, his head cocked to the side in a birdlike manner.

“Uh.” Smooth, Winchester. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Sorry, I’ve never been here before. What’s good?”

The dark-haired man considered Dean for a moment before speaking. “Well.. we have a deconstructed latte that’s quite popular. But something tells me you’re more of a black coffee guy?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I’m not even sure what ‘deconstructed’ coffee is, but it’s probably a hard pass for me.”

“I figured,” he laughed, reaching under the counter for an oversized coffee mug. Dean’s gaze wandered over his shoulders for a second before he forced himself to look back down at the menu. The man slid a steaming cup of coffee in front of him and angled himself up against the bar, waiting.

“Ah.. I guess maybe the eggs Benedict? And one of those chocolate croissant things.”

“Good choice.” He jotted the order on a scrap of paper and flashed Dean a curious smile, reaching back to stick the order on a peg near the kitchen window. “I’m Cas, if you need anything.”

“Dean.” He paused. “Sorry, you probably didn’t need to know that.”

“It’s fine - it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Cas grinned at him before making his way back to an antique brass espresso machine, starting on his next order. Dean swallowed hard and picked up his coffee, watching the steam rise. He could tell that his cheeks were flushed, but he kept his thoughts on the coffee and his eyes stolidly on the countertop in front of him. 

He felt conspicuous somehow, like the other patrons’ eyes were all zeroed in on him. He knew he was being ridiculous, and no one knew him in this town. Still, the dry mouth and sweaty palms were a little unexpected. He hadn’t had that kind of a reaction to another guy since high school, thanks to his unwavering denial and a determination to never let his dad find out. He didn’t pursue anything back then, so he managed to smother his crushes and move on with his life. 

Dean’s thoughts drifted back to the yoga studio full of cougars down the street, but he shook them from his mind as he picked up the coffee mug in front of him. Cas was still bent over the machine, and Dean watched as his long fingers moved over the steamer handle. His uniform t-shirt skimmed over the muscles in his upper arm, and despite the fact that he seemed like the nerdy type at first blush, Dean could tell that he worked out. He took a measured sip of his coffee and sighed as the delicious liquid warmed his somersaulting stomach. 

Shit. He was in trouble. 

***

Cas balanced a beaker of scalding water carefully next to a cup, a matching beaker of espresso, and a little jug of cream on a polished two-by-four and left it on the counter for a waiter to pick up. Honestly, he hated the deconstructed latte and the rest of all this hipster nonsense, but it was an easy way to cover his half of the rent during the school year. The free coffee and leftover pastry was a bonus - not to mention the unexpected company of the cute stranger currently slouching at the end of his bar.

Dean. He had rather adorably offered his name when Cas introduced himself a few minutes prior. He guessed the guy was about his age, though he hadn’t seen him on campus before; he would have remembered those lips. The guy was gorgeous in a very lumberjack kind of way, but unlike most of the pretentious hipsters he worked with, he assumed that Dean wore his flannel shirt in a wholly unironic way.

He glanced into the kitchen, where the morning cook was whistling a zydeco tune to himself as he poached eggs. Cas wanted nothing more than to chat with Dean again, but he didn’t want to look too desperate or overeager. Besides, he didn’t want to scare him off before at least trying for his phone number. He was having a shockingly difficult time telling if the guy was even interested - he’d mistaken sweet, shy politeness for flirting too many times in the past to feel confident. Still worth a shot, though.

Cas worked his way through a few more coffee orders before Dean’s plate slid onto the window ledge behind him. He forced himself to turn slowly, picking up the dish and a napkin-bound set of silverware before making his way down to the end of the counter. Dean’s coffee cup was nearly empty, and he flashed a smile as he carefully set the plate down.

“I’ll get a refill for you in just a second. Need anything else while I’m here..?”

Dean surveyed his plate for a second before shaking his head. “Nah, man. I think I’m good.” 

Cas felt his stomach twist, but he plastered on a smile before turning to look for the coffee pot. So maybe he had misread things, but he could have sworn he saw the guy checking him out while he was making a drink. He felt eyes on himself even now, but when he came back to refill the cup, Dean was busy cutting into the eggs with a hungry look on his face. Cas watched him as he poured; he tilted his head when Dean shoveled a bite into his mouth and swooned.

“Does everything taste okay?” he ventured.

Dean looked up at him with a broad smile, swallowing as he nodded. “Yeah, it’s great—sorry, didn’t realize how fucking starving I was until I saw this.”

Cas laughed, reaching up to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “No apology needed. That’s one of my favorite things on the menu. The chocolate croissant isn’t half-bad, either.”

“Yeah? I was planning on taking it home to my little brother, but I don’t know if it’ll make it that far.”

“You live with your brother, then?”

A proud little smile tugged at Dean’s mouth; Cas’s gaze remained there a beat too long. “Yeah, I look after him. He’s a junior in high school, and he eats like a horse so I try to bring him a little extra when I can.” 

A thought popped into Cas’s head. He glanced across the café to make sure his coworkers were occupied before offering Dean a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t let your food get cold - I’ll be right back.”

Cas headed past the kitchen door, down a short hallway that led to the manager’s office and a storage room that doubled as a workspace for the baker. He peeked into the dark office as he passed by, which was promisingly empty, just like the storage area. The day-old pastries sat on a rolling sheet pan rack; they were left for the employees to grab, since they were still perfectly edible but apparently not suitable to sell. 

He grabbed a folded cake box and popped it open, filling it quickly with as many pastries as he could cram in. Croissants, popovers, danishes, and a few scones went in easily enough; he knew no one would mind. Half the staff had recently decided to go gluten-free, so Cas was one of the few who made use of the free food. No one would miss a dozen or so treats from the back. 

He tucked the box under his arm and made his way back to the coffee bar, a spring in his step once he rounded the corner. Dean looked up from his plate curiously; Cas leaned in as he slid the box across the counter to him.

“Don’t open it right now,” he said. “But I’ve packed up some stuff for you.”

Dean blinked, eyeing the large box. “Really? Dude, you don’t have to do that—”

Cas waved away his protest. “It’s on the house. No one will even notice it’s gone, and that way you can enjoy your croissant without feeling guilty about it.”

“Well.. shit, man. Thank you.” Dean grinned at him, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. His plate was clean apart from the croissant, and Cas reached out to nudge the plate a little closer to him. He watched as Dean picked it up and broke off a large bite, popping it in his mouth, and Cas had the sudden feeling that Dean didn’t often get to eat until he was sated. He had a hungry, lean look to him that made Cas want to take him home and cook for him. He wasn’t an expert cook but he did the best he could in his tiny kitchen, and he enjoyed looking after people. It had been a long time since he had someone to cook for properly. 

“My pleasure. I’ve got a brother, too.. he’s older, but he still requires a little looking after, so I get it. Mostly he just smokes and drinks too much and lives mostly on candy.” Cas grinned. 

Dean’s ears perked up. “Okay, when you say smokes, you mean..?”

“Not the legal stuff. He’s kind of a hippie, but less peaceful and more smart-assed,” Cas replied, smiling wryly. He set the check down next to Dean, leaning up against the counter.

Dean fished the wallet out of his back pocket; his fingers hovered over the credit card but he plucked a crumpled twenty out instead to lay on top of it. “Keep the change. And, ah.. your brother. He doesn’t happen to sell anything, does he? I’m kind of on vacation, if you know what I mean, and I’m in desperate need of some relaxation.”

Cas eyed him from behind his glasses; he really didn’t want to risk being overheard by a few of his coworkers, but on the other hand.. it would be an excuse to talk to Dean a little longer, and maybe meet up after his shift. After a moment of hesitation, he gave him a quick jerk of a nod. 

“He does, as a matter of fact,” he finally said. “I’m off at noon today, but I’ve got class right after. I could meet you after that, though?”

Dean chuckled. “It’s a date. Want me to meet you back here..?”

Cas considered him for a moment before flipping the receipt over, scrawling his number on the back in passably elegant script. “Here. Call or text me around two, and we can meet up near my apartment. Okay?”

He watched as Dean pocketed the scrap of paper, sliding off of his stool with a smile. He picked up the box of pastries and nodded. “Yeah, sure thing. If you get a random call from South Dakota, it’s me - old phone number. And thank you for the food.. Sammy will really appreciate it.”

Cas gave him a little wave, waiting until Dean made his way back to the door before picking up his empty plates. He bounced on the balls of his feet and turned to go to the kitchen, sporting an impossibly giddy look on his face. Sure, he might be tangentially involved in his brother’s less-than legal business for the moment, but it also meant he had an “in” with the lumberjack. The cook, Benny, gave him a look and shook his head in amusement. He was a big bear of a guy, who turned out to be a lot more jovial than he looked when you got to know him. Since Cas was usually on the morning shift, they got to know each other over the year and a half Cas had worked there.

“You’re such a flirt.”

“What are you talking about?” Cas blinked owlishly at him, forcing an innocent look on his face. It was no use, though. Everyone could always see right through his poker face.

Benny snorted. “That pretty boy you were waiting on. The kid with the dick-sucking lips who left with my lunch.”

Cas choked, his cheeks going pink. “I—excuse me, what?”

“It’s fine, kid. I’m just pulling your chain,” he laughed, flicking a piece of bell pepper at him. “Tell me you got a date out of it, at least..?”

Despite the fact that he could still feel the heat radiating off of his face, Cas gave the cook a sheepish smile. He tucked his hands into his pockets, and a surge of exhilaration coursed through him as he thought about their meet-up later.

“Yes. Yes, I did.”


	2. Chapter 2

Dean looked up at the ancient apartment building in front of him, his hand curled around the phone in his pocket. This was definitely the address Cas had texted him earlier, but he was having a hard time picturing him in such a ramshackle place. He could tell it had been beautiful when it was built: the faded red brick and stone hinted at a century-old Midwestern attempt at opulence. The front steps had obviously been replaced a few decades prior, and laundry hung from several of the balconies. Not that Dean could judge, given that he currently lived in a no-name motel on the other side of the tracks. 

He glanced down the street, rocking on his heels as he tried to ignore the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. He refused to acknowledge it as excitement - anticipation, maybe? Or perhaps he was ready to get high. Whatever it was, he knew he wanted to see Cas again. 

He didn’t have to wait long. Cas had ditched the suspenders from his work uniform and replaced them with a blue hoodie, but the person walking across the street was unmistakably him. Dean gave him a wave, trying to keep a dumb smile off of his face. Cas beamed at him as he strolled up, digging around in a side pocket of his school bag. He resurfaced with a set of keys on a simple silver ring.

“Looks like you found it all right,” he said. 

Dean laughed. “Yeah, somehow. This town is kind of interesting to navigate so far, but then we’ve only been here a few days.” 

Cas started up the steps and motioned for him to follow. They went inside, and Cas immediately started up a central wooden staircase. “This actually used to be someone’s house, but they converted it into units for student apartments. I know it’s not much to look at, but it’s really close to campus.”

“Hey, it’s fine. I live in a motel right now,” Dean said; he didn’t know why he volunteered that. He usually didn’t fill in new acquaintances on his weird living arrangements, but at least they weren’t sleeping in the car this time around.

Cas stopped on the first landing and looked at him curiously. “So you’re just here temporarily..?”

Dean didn’t miss the note of disappointment in his question. “Yeah. We travel around a lot. Mostly because of my dad’s work, but we should at least be here until the end of the school year.” 

“Oh,” Cas said. Dean waited for more, but instead the other man headed down the hall, stopping at the last door. Dean slid his hands back into his pockets, watching Cas rifle through the keys until he came to the right one. He unlocked the door and bumped it with his hip, twisting the knob at the same time. 

He offered Dean an apologetic smile. “Sorry, it sticks. Come on in.”

The door swung open, leading into a small living room with a pair of dark love seats and a secondhand television. There was a dining area immediately inside the door that was obviously used as a desk for schoolwork, judging by the laptop and stack of textbooks piled on top. A small kitchen overlooked the main living space, and the whole place was astonishingly clean despite the shabby feel of the building. Someone obviously cared about the presentation of the apartment- probably Cas rather than his brother, if Dean was guessing. Cas shut the door and locked it behind them, watching him carefully for a reaction.

Dean surveyed the area before glancing at him. “I like it. It’s cozy in here.”

Cas smiled, dropping his keys into a small dish on the table. His relief was palpable even to Dean, and he felt a brief surge of affection for the man. He had to admit that Cas was cute, at least - no one else needed to know what he was thinking. Cute and had a connection to something he was looking for, he reminded himself. 

“So, ah.. is your brother home?” Dean asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cas nodded. “Yeah, he’s probably in his room.” 

Cas led Dean to a short hallway, pointing out the spotless bathroom on the right. The other two doors were closed, and the smell of weed grew more and more evident the closer they got to the door on the left. Cas knocked twice before opening it a fraction.

“Gabe, we have company—please tell me you’re not naked.”

A laugh bubbled up from the dim room, the sound of someone shuffling around inside. A lamp flickered on near the window, and Cas pushed the door open further. The bedroom was a study in contrasts compared to the rest of the apartment: a futon covered in blankets was tucked up against the wall, clothing and candy wrappers tossed indiscriminately on the floor and most available surfaces. There was a low-slung table with a giant ceramic bong amidst the detritus of cigarette lighters and rolling papers. The man inside was shorter and blond, physically opposite from his brother in every possible way. 

Gabriel fixed a jocular smile on them. “I told you, Cas. You don’t have to introduce all your hook-ups when you bring someone home.”

Cas turned a brilliant shade of red. “I’m not—he’s not a—jesus, Gabe. We just met. He’s actually hoping to buy something from you.”

Dean cleared his throat, shooting a significant look at the cluttered table. “Your brother mentioned you were in the market. I just moved here.”

“Now you’re talking,” Gabriel said, laughing. He motioned for them to sit down before heading to his closet. “You oughta see the look on your faces, though. Sure you’re not up to something else?”

Now it was Dean’s turn to flush. “No, um.. just the pot right now, thanks.”

He kept his eyes trained on Gabriel, steadfastly refusing to make eye contact with Cas. He didn’t trust his stupid face not to betray the little prickles of attraction he felt, and he was determined to keep that buried deep. It was a headache he didn’t want, and he’d honestly rather face a firing squad than risk his dad or Sam finding out. After a second, Gabe returned with two small bags and tossed them down on the table between them.

“Unfortunately, my stock is dwindling at the moment, but I should be getting more stuff next week if you're interested. I’ve got some pretty decent kush, and the stuff on the right is basically middle-school schwag but it packs a punch.”

Dean considered both bags before grinning crookedly at Gabe. “I’ll take both. I can rotate or something.”

“Good man,” he said. He considered the bags for a second before looking at Dean. “Thirty bucks? You’re a friend of my brother, I won’t rip you off.”

“Deal,” Dean said. He fished his wallet out and passed a few folded bills to Gabe before picking up the bags, standing up to pocket them. He felt Cas climb to his feet nearby, and Gabriel winked before waving them away. 

“If you gents will excuse me, I’ve got a bowl to smoke. Come see me next week.”

Dean waved goodbye and followed Cas back out into the hallway, closing the door behind them. They hovered there awkwardly for a second before Cas finally offered him a shy smile. 

“Do you want to stay for a while?”

Dean hesitated; Sam wouldn’t be home from school for a few more hours. It might be nice to hang out for a bit with some company his own age. Despite all his better instincts screaming at him to leave, he couldn’t help but be drawn to this relative stranger. Cas seemed sincere, affable, and maybe a little lonely. Takes one to know one, he thought.

He drew in a deep breath. “Definitely.”

***

Cas had no idea what he was doing. 

He leaned up against his bedroom door, surveying the contents of his room with a critical eye. The bed was made, all his clothes were put away, a fishtank bubbled merrily on the dresser.. and sure, compared to Gabe’s room, it was immaculate. But there was an immeasurably handsome man waiting to come in, and he wanted it to be perfect. 

He cracked the door open to peek down the hall: Dean was perched on the end of a loveseat, flipping through one of Cas’s textbooks. He pushed the door closed again and stared at his reflection in the dorm-like mirror hanging on his closet, wishing he had time to change out of his work clothes. Then again, that might make his crush even more obvious, and he already felt conspicuous. He definitely planned on giving Gabriel a dressing-down later for that hookup comment.

Dean was gorgeous. And Cas was at least forty percent sure Dean was interested in guys, possibly even interested in Cas - he just couldn’t tell if Dean knew it yet. He was having trouble reading the plaid-clad stranger, but he seemed sweet underneath the rough bravado. He sincerely hoped some of it was posturing, that he hadn’t hopelessly misread their meeting at the café this morning. He was slightly taken aback at his desire to learn more about him.

Cas drew in a breath, squared his shoulders, and tugged the door open. Dean’s head popped up and he closed the book with a soft snap, unfolding himself from the couch as he stood. Cas grinned and motioned him in, letting the door swing shut behind them.

“Sorry, just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a wreck in here.”

Dean glanced around the room before focusing a shrewd smile on him. “Really? Because the rest of the place looks cleaner than any place I’ve seen before.”

Cas laughed sheepishly and decided to a gamble. “Fine. I just wanted to impress you.”

A tinge of pink started to creep up the base of Dean’s neck, and he stepped past Cas to admire the room. His gaze drifted over to the window after a second and he slid his hands into his pockets, finally offering him a shy twitch of a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Cas felt his confidence flag the longer he watched the other man. He chewed on his lower lip before speaking up again. “You can smoke in here if you want, just open a window.”

Dean’s green eyes lit up, already sliding one of the bags from his pocket. “You sure?” 

He nodded. He didn’t mind the thought of it, as long as Dean stuck around. “Of course. I mean, I’ve lived with Gabriel for years. It doesn’t bother me.”

“Thanks, Cas.” Dean flashed him a brighter smile and gingerly slid the window up, nudging the curtains back. He fished a simple glass pipe from the inside pocket of his jacket, dropping down on the foot of bed. Cas hesitated before sinking down next to him, watching as Dean’s nimble fingers quickly filled the bowl and lightly tamped the contents down. He was fascinating to watch.

Dean cradled it against his knee and patted his pockets, looking for a lighter. Once he resurfaced with a faded Bic, he brought the pipe up to his sinful lips and lit up. He drew in a slow, deep drag and groaned quietly. The sound went right through Cas, and he held his breath until Dean exhaled the stream of smoke a few moments later.

“Christ, that’s good.” 

He turned to Cas and proffered the pipe and lighter, a crooked smile on his face. Cas blinked, considering his options. He had smoked before, of course - it was impossible not to with Gabriel in the house, but he had never really enjoyed it. He didn’t like the dizziness or the way it made him feel like he wasn’t in control of his limbs. He was certainly intrigued now, though. After a second, he returned the smile and took them from Dean. The bowl hadn’t cherried yet, so he lifted the pipe up and flicked the lighter, taking a long hit. He could feel Dean’s eyes on his, and he raised his eyebrows as he held the smoke for a second before exhaling with a croaky laugh.

“What?”

Dean shook his head, his eyes twinkling. “Nothing. I just hope I’m not corrupting you or something.”

“You don’t have anything to worry about. We’re long past corrupted,” he replied. He passed the pipe back to Dean and adjusted his glasses, watching as the other man lit up again. They sat like that for a while, passing it back and forth between them, and after a while Dean started to relax on his bed. Cas found that he didn’t mind the comfortable silence between them; it felt familiar, especially when Dean reclined against his quilt. He glanced over, trying not to stare at the strip of skin where his shirt rucked up. It didn’t work, but his attempt was valiant.

Cas pulled his leg up underneath him, turning to look at Dean. His eyes were closed, but after a minute he cracked one open to watch Cas. His voice was low and rumbly when he spoke, mellower than it had been in the café that morning.

“This turned out to be an unexpectedly great day, Cas. I’m glad I ran into you.” 

His stomach warmed at the words, cradling the cashed pipe in his hand. “Me too. I’m sad you’re not here permanently, though. You said it was for your dad’s work..?”

Dean closed his eyes again. “Yeah. He travels a lot.”

Under normal circumstances, Cas wouldn’t press, but the weed loosened him--and his neuroses. He stretched out near Dean, tucking his head into the crook of his arm. “What does he do?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, dude.” Dean laughed. It was a lovely, throaty noise. 

Cas arched his eyebrows. “No? Try me.” 

Dean was quiet for a long time. Cas thought he had fallen asleep, but then again, time was moving at a different pace for him right now. Dean folded his hands over his stomach and opened his eyes, leaving them to focus on the ceiling.

“My dad used to be a Marine, actually. He met my mom after he got out, and they got married. Had me and Sam, but.. ah. Mom died when I was four, so it’s just been the three of us ever since. It all started with dad trying to hunt down the thing that killed mom, but we’ve gotten into a lot more than that along the way.” 

He paused. Cas’s mind was spinning slowly, trying to suss out new information and piece together everything Dean was telling him.

“The.. thing? What thing?” 

Dean rolled his head to the side to look at Cas. “Actually.. that might be a good story for a later time. Don’t want to scare you off just yet. Plus, I should probably get home before Sam does.” 

Cas ignored the little jolt of disappointment in his stomach. Dean made it sound like he wanted to see him again, which was a positive in his eyes. He bit his bottom lip to keep from flashing another inane smile, but his breath caught in the back of his throat when he realized Dean was watching him - not just him, but his mouth. Cas froze; Dean was less than a foot away, his hands still folded calmly over his stomach. He wasn’t sure who moved in first, but there was a palpable charge in the air between them as they drew closer, and then - nothing. 

Cas’s eyes snapped open to find Dean’s face a few inches away from him. His eyes were wide and slightly bloodshot, and his flash of panic was evident. Cas reached out to touch his wrist, swallowing.

“Dean..?”

He watched as the other man sat up with some effort, raking his fingers back through his hair. Cas started to sit up, but he felt like he was moving in slow motion. Everything was slightly hazy, and he couldn’t tell if that was the pot or the near-whatever-the-hell-that-was that just passed between them. 

Dean crawled to his feet and swayed slightly, taking the lighter and pipe back from Cas. He tucked the two into his pocket before giving him a quick, tight smile.

“Thank you for smoking with me,” he said. 

“Dean--”

He shook his head, already halfway to the door. “I’ve gotta go. I need to be home before Sam is or he’ll think something happened.”

Cas frowned and wrapped his arms around himself. His happy, relaxed bubble was quickly starting to dissipate. “Oh.. yeah, of course. Will you text me later?”

“Sure. Later, okay?” Dean didn’t wait for his reply, and Cas watched as he swung the bedroom door open. The front door followed a few seconds later, closing with a resounding smack. Cas flopped back on his bed with a groan, running his hands over his face. Damn it, he thought. 

Another one bites the dust.

***

Dean didn’t slow down again until he was on the sidewalk. His heart was pounding and his head felt like it was floating somewhere in the atmosphere. It didn’t help that he was high as a kite now, but not high enough to keep a little prickle of panic from sneaking into the back of his mind. 

Son of a bitch. He had no idea what possessed him to unload all of that on Cas. He barely knew the guy, he couldn’t just start ranting about demons and monsters and all that without scaring him off. 

And that moment. What the fuck had that been? Too damn close for comfort, that’s what it was. He shoved his hands in his pockets and started down the sidewalk, trying not to imagine the way Cas’s slightly chapped lips had parted when Dean leaned in. He would have kissed him if the survival instincts in the back of his head hadn’t kicked into high gear. He didn’t stop walking until he made it to his bus stop, squinting up at the sign before dropping down on a bench to wait. 

Dean rubbed his face, slouching against the cool metal. He had promised to text Cas later, too; he had no idea what to say to him, but he didn’t want to leave him wondering. He would just have to let him down easily.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and thumbed through his contacts until he found the number. With his lip between his teeth, he started to type.

hey. Thanks for having me over. Sorry I left so soon, but I’m not into dudes.

Dean hesitated before deleting the words. He knew damn well they weren’t true, and he realized with a pang that he really didn’t want to lie to Cas. Given how quickly he left a few minutes ago, he didn’t know how Cas would react to an apology or an attempt at an explanation. Dean didn’t want to bog him down with all his issues and hang-ups, either. He drew a breath and tried again.

hey man. thanks for having me over today and hooking me up with Gabe’s stuff. sorry I left so fast - see you again sometime?

That was better. He read the message over once or twice before pressing send. The bus rounded the corner a minute later, and he tucked his phone away so he didn’t keep waiting for a response like an idiot. After paying and finding a seat, he settled back to wait out the ride to his motel. He couldn’t remember how many stops came before his, but he would recognize the area. 

When his phone buzzed in his pocket a few minutes later, his stomach gave an anxious squirm. It took him longer than he would ever admit to look at the message, but when he finally managed to read it, a smile crossed his face.

It’s fine, Cas replied. He couldn’t help but notice the blushing smiley face that accompanied the message. I would really like to see you again. Maybe a movie or something?

Dean glanced around the mostly empty bus and hated himself a little for being so concerned about what these random strangers might think of him. He weighed Cas’s question in his mind for a second - he was convinced Cas was asking him out. His last date had been over six months ago, the last time John ditched them to go off on his own, and he couldn’t even remember the girl’s name. 

His dad wouldn’t be back until at least the end of the month. Maybe it was the weed talking, but Dean was feeling more exhilarated and uninhibited than he had in years. Before he could talk himself out of it, he sent a rapid reply.

i’m probably free Friday..

The response was almost immediate. Friday is perfect. :)


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the week flew by, as far as Cas was concerned. He and Dean texted on and off, usually after Dean had obviously been smoking, and that did nothing to ease his jitters about their date. He agonized over his outfit for close to an hour before settling on a pair of slim jeans, a vintage Queen t-shirt, and a navy cardigan. Gabriel smirked when he came out into the living room, peering at him from over the top of a magazine. 

“Looking snazzy, mon frere. I see you went with the sexy sweater look,” he said.

Cas rolled his eyes. “Shut up. Do I look all right?”

Gabriel tossed the magazine aside and studied him. “Yeah, you look fine. Kind of like a sexy Mr. Rogers.”

“I don’t want to look fine, I need to look good.” 

“Okay, so you look good. I’m your brother, I’m not looking at you that way.”

Cas sighed and picked up his keys, shooting him a look. “Very helpful, Gabe. We’re going to a movie, so I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. “I won’t wait up for you, kiddo.”

Cas shot him the finger, then headed outside and down the stairs, jingling his keys as he ambled down the sidewalk. His car was parked in a lot around the corner; he offered to drive Dean so he didn’t have to deal with the bus system at night. The real impetus behind driving was more self-serving than that - he wanted an excuse to spend more time with Dean, since they wouldn’t have time to really talk at the theater. 

He made his way across town, listening to a local talk radio station as he drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. There wasn’t much traffic in town, so he made decent time on his trek to the industrial the side of town. The motel looked a little sketchy from the outside, but he reminded himself that Dean would only be here temporarily. He parked his car in front of the building Dean texted him earlier, glancing around the empty parking lot as he walked over to knock on the door.

There was a commotion inside. Cas smiled to himself as he listened to the brothers bicker, and it took another minute or so before Dean managed to make it to the door, looking a little frazzled.

“Sorry, someone thought he could beat me to the door.” Dean grinned crookedly at Cas; a gangly teenager sat at a chipped formica table with a giant bowl of something that looked like Spaghettios in front of him. 

Cas offered the teen a smile. “You must be Sam.” Dean hung back in the doorway, glancing between his brother and Cas with a wary smile. Cas figured this was the first time a guy had shown up for a date, but he doubted that Dean had called it that when he told his brother. 

“That’s me,” he said. He reached up to push his messy hair back from his face. “Are you the one who sent food home earlier this week? Those were amazing.”

Cas laughed. “Yes, I did. Unfortunately, I don’t do the baking so I can’t really take credit, but I could try to send another box home with your brother next week.” 

Sam gave him a broad, dimpled grin. “Really?”

Dean shrugged into his jacket, chuckling. “If you haven’t guessed already, the kid eats us out of house and home. Sammy - I’ll have my phone on silent, but text me if you need anything. There’s more food in the fridge if you get hungry, and don’t go wandering. I’ll probably be back in a few hours?”

Once Dean seemed confident that his brother wasn’t going to get into trouble while they were out, Cas led him back to the car to start the drive across town. He stole a glance at Dean while they paused at a stop light; he looked good, but maybe a little nervous. Cas decided that wasn’t a bad thing under the circumstances. He definitely preferred nerves to disinterest. 

They debated between a few movies once they made it to the theater, finally settling on a generic science fiction adventure that had a convenient show time. Cas insisted on paying for their tickets, which made Dean blush - but he didn’t complain. They squabbled over concessions before settling on a shared box of gummy worms. Once they found the right theater, they sat towards the back, sinking low in their seats in the dim light. Dean swung his feet up onto the row in front of them, pulling the bag of candy open with a plasticine crinkle. 

Cas snagged a handful and grinned at him. “I can’t remember the last time I came to the movie theater. Gabe and I usually just watch whatever awful made-for-tv movie is on.”

“It’s been years for me,” Dean said. He tore the head off a gummy worm, glancing at him. “We’re usually busy with dad’s work, so I don’t get a lot of down time.”

The ads rolled lazily over the screen; Cas kept his eyes trained on a cheesy local orthodontic commercial as he twirled a gummy around his finger. “What does he do again..? I know you mentioned you travel a lot.”

Dean paused. “It’s kind of complicated.”

Cas glanced at him curiously. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said. Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek. He fished around in the bag before finding his preferred gummy worm color combination, green and yellow. He finally sighed quietly.

“I will tell you. Eventually. I just--it’s not something that most people do, and I don’t want you to freak out or think I’m insane, all right?”

Cas tilted his head quizzically; Dean looked so torn, practically squirming in his seat. “I’ve got a pretty high threshold, just so you know. And I don’t judge. I mean, look at who I live with.” 

That made him smile. “I know. And I think I might be able to trust you.”

“Might? I’m wounded, Winchester.” Cas laughed, tossing a gummy worm at him as the lights dimmed. Dean settled back in his chair when the first preview started, picking the candy off of his chest to pop in his mouth.

“Oh, shut up. Soon?”

Cas felt a faint flutter in the pit of his stomach, his hand giving a twitch closer on the armrest between them. “I can accept that.”

***

The movie was every bit as forgettable as the poster made it appear. Dean’s thoughts kept wandering during the ridiculously lengthy space battles, floating somewhere between the idea of telling someone about the family business and the sight of Cas’s long-fingered hand lying on the velvet armrest between them. The little voice in his head kept encouraging him to reach for Cas’s hand, but he managed to quash that idea down before he could make an ass of himself. 

He and Cas shuffled out of the theater after most of the crowd thinned out. Cas walked next to him, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. Dean held the door as they headed out into the night. 

“So.. what did you think?” Cas ventured.

Dean grinned. “Okay, so it wasn’t the best movie I’ve seen. But it wasn’t terrible.”

“I tend to agree with that assessment,” he said. He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, a habit Dean found more and more endearing the longer they were together. They piled into Cas’s crappy old Lincoln, and after a few attempts to start the car, they set off across town. He had a feeling Cas was taking a scenic route back, which made him smile. 

The car was idling at a stop light when Dean noticed the food trucks. A group of brightly colored, chrome-trimmed trucks stood in a row in an otherwise empty parking lot that clearly doubled as a makeshift food park. Strings of globe lights hung overhead between the trucks, and a few rickety picnic tables sat nearby. The effect was kitschy--and maybe a little magical--and Dean had a sudden craving for overpriced, trendy food.

Dean reached out to swat Cas’s arm with the back of his hand. “Cas--hey, Cas, do you want to stop and grab some dinner..?”

Cas glanced out the window, and Dean could see the smile that lit up his face. “Definitely. We may have to loop the block to get over there, though.”

A few minutes later, they found a parking space and climbed out. Dean’s eyes skimmed over the witty names on the trucks, trying to discern what type of food they offered. He finally settled on one truck - Burger, She Wrote - and nudged Cas. 

“Is this okay? Do you want to pick a different one?”

Cas was already reading the menu, laughing at one of the menu items. “This is perfect. Kind of hard to beat an Angela Lansbury-themed burger place, right?”

Dean fished his wallet out of his back pocket, bumping Cas with his hip. “Exactly. Tell me what you want, then maybe you can go snag a table before they’re all gone..?”

He and Cas huddled in front of the menu board, laughing at the episode-titled names before finally settling on their food. Cas chose Burger on Madison Avenue, while Dean finally went with Burger Stalks the Big Top. Cas made a beeline for one of the picnic tables before anyone else could claim it, and Dean watched him as he waited in line for food. Cas was playing on his phone, the café lights twinkling overhead and glinting off the frames of his glasses. He looked cute; Dean allowed himself a moment to indulge that realization. 

After placing their order, he leaned up against the side of the truck to wait. He could hear the kitchen din drifting out from the truck, and the night air felt cool against his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he had enjoyed a night out so much - or even had a night out, he reminded himself. Thank god Sam was old enough to look after himself now. He loved the kid and would do anything for him, but he wasn’t quite ready to give up the idea of having some semblance of a social life while he had the chance. It wasn’t often he had time off from hunting.

The thought of hunting made his stomach squirm as he remembered their pre-movie conversation. Was he really going to tell Cas about the family business? Cas seemed very open and accepting, but most civilians tended towards disbelief the first time they heard the truth. Dean picked up the tray when his name was called, balancing it carefully as he filled a few paper cups with ketchup. He caught Cas’s eye across the parking lot and offered him a bashful smile; the grin he got in return felt like the sun coming out, and that strengthened Dean’s resolve. 

He would tell him. Eventually. 

For now, he just wanted to enjoy their date. Even thinking those words was a new sensation, allowing himself to enjoy the concept without the familiar prickles of panic sneaking down his spine. He stabilized the tray and walked over, setting it down between them with a flourish.

“Looks good, right?”

Cas laughed. “It looks amazing. But you’re letting me pay next time, deal?”

“I can handle that,” Dean said. He plucked a massive curly fry off the pile, popping it into his mouth. “So I guess that means we’re going out again?”

Cas adjusted his glasses before picking up his burger. “I hope so.”

Dean felt the tips of his ears burning a faint shade of red, and he watched as Cas took a giant bite of his burger, resting his elbows on the picnic table with a swoony sigh. He reached for his own, peeling back the foil wrapper in search of the perfect first bite.

“Well?”

Cas swallowed and wiped the corner of his mouth on a napkin. “Delicious. I had no idea we even had food trucks here. I definitely have to come back and explore more.”

Dean started in on his food, a burst of tomato and bacon washing over his tongue. It was a damn good burger, he had to admit. Better than the usual diner and fast food fare his family usually went for. He and Cas ate in amicable silence, their hands occasionally colliding in a battle for dominance over the heap of fries. When they were both finished, Cas hopped up to take their tray back. Dean brushed his hands off on the legs of his jeans before standing up. More people were milling around the area, and it made him a little edgy. He finally got up and made his way over to Cas, whose blue eyes were skimming the other trucks. 

He turned to Dean with an endearing, mischievous look on his face. “How do you feel about gelato?”

***

By the time they made it back to the car, Cas was stuffed. He was loath to admit they probably didn’t each need two scoops of gelato, but there were so many compelling flavors to choose from. He rubbed his stomach as Dean buckled into his seat, groaning. 

“So. Full.” 

The melodramatic grumbling coming from the passenger seat was too much for Cas to handle, and he dissolved into helpless snickers as his head rolled back against the headrest. 

“We can just sit here, if you want--though I don’t know how comfortable my car would be overnight. The seats are a little lumpy.”

Dean chuckled, even though the action made him wince. “No, I should be good in a minute. We ought to smoke a bowl when we get back to the motel, though.. before I have to go in?”

Cas nodded. “I’m game. I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep in your parking lot, though.”

He backed his Lincoln out of the parking spot after another few minutes of digesting, trundling back into traffic. Dean reached out to turn on the radio, pulling a face as the dulcet tones of NPR drifted through the shoddy speakers. He fiddled with the knobs for a second before finding a patchy classic rock station, turning it down to quiet background noise.

The lot at the motel was practically deserted by the time they made it back. Cas pulled his Lincoln into a spot near Dean and Sam’s room, turning the lights off so they didn’t disturb anyone inside. Dean rummaged around in his jacket pocket, resurfacing with a hand-rolled joint a second later.

“Sorry if I’m being a bad influence,” he said with an impish smile. 

Cas snickered, shaking his head. “We’ve been over this already, you don’t need to apologize. It definitely isn’t new territory.” 

Dean flashed him a devastating little smile that made Cas’s chest squeeze. He glanced around the parking lot to make sure they were still alone before balancing the joint between his lips, patting his pockets for a lighter. Cas watched his mouth for a second before he felt his cheeks starting to turn pink, so he unbuckled his seatbelt to give himself something to do. He heard the click of Dean’s lighter, followed by a soft crackle and inhale. 

They passed the joint back and forth for a minute, the windows of the Lincoln cracked to let in the cool night breeze. Dean slouched up against the seat, watching Cas with a lazy grin. Cas studied him for a second before raising his eyebrows, suddenly feeling bold. 

“We should shotgun. I’ve never done that before.”

A pause hung between them; Cas wondered if he had made a misstep or if he would freak Dean out by being too forward. Relief surged through him when Dean finally offered him the half-finished joint. Cas shifted so he could face Dean, his knee resting on the car’s bench seat between them. Dean seemed a little keyed up as he turned, his plush lower lip working between his teeth. 

“Okay, so there are a few different ways you can do this.. but since this is your first time, I think we should probably skip the complicated stuff. Just take a hit but hold it, okay? Then you’ll have to get up close and blow it into my mouth. We can either make a tunnel with our hands, or..”

He trailed off, and the unsaid words were obvious to Cas. They had been using an empty coffee cup as an ashtray, and Cas balanced it carefully on the dashboard of his car so it wouldn’t be in the way when he leaned in. Dean’s eyes darted back out the window; the lot was still uninhabited, and Cas smiled to himself when he realized Dean was nervous.

The joint hissed as Cas drew in a deep lungful of smoke, and he balanced it carefully on the lid of their makeshift ashtray before leaning in. Dean was frozen, but to his credit, he didn’t balk. Cas swore he could hear his heart hammering under his ribcage as Dean’s face swam into view, and before he could lose his nerve, he pressed his lips right up against Dean’s. After a split second of paralysis, Dean’s lips parted and Cas followed his lead. He closed his eyes as Dean quickly sucked the smoke from his mouth, his nose bumping up against the other man’s freckled cheek.

He broke away as Dean drew in another quick breath, his eyes wide as he held his smoke. Cas felt breathless from the brief contact, and he swallowed hard as he watched Dean. Dean finally exhaled a cloud of smoke with a cough, his cheeks glowing crimson in the dim car light. 

A beat passed between them while they stared at each other. It wasn’t clear who moved first: both men surged forward, crashing together in a flurry of motion as their lips met for a second time. Dean’s fingers worked insistently through the back of Cas’s hair, holding him firmly in place. He tasted like smoke. Cas gripped the front of Dean’s shirt as he licked into his mouth, scooting closer on the seat. Dean made a noise in the back of his throat and kissed him hard in return.

Holy shit.

After what felt like an hour, Cas pulled back to catch his breath. Dean’s mouth immediately slid down to nip at the soft skin below his ear. Cas was halfway hard already, and he could tell he would be in trouble if they kept this up much longer. They were wedged up against the passenger seat window, the joint long since burned out. His thoughts ran wild, and all he really wanted to do was climb into the back seat of the Lincoln to really enjoy their high. Something told him they would need to move a little slower than that, however, given how unsure Dean seemed up until tonight. 

He reached up to gently push Dean back, sitting up a little. Dean’s eyes opened and his green eyes searched Cas’s face, his lips slightly puffy and a dazed look on his face.

“What--” he began. 

Cas laughed, his throat scratchy. “That was.. amazing. I’ve wanted to do that since you first came to the café.”

Dean shifted in his seat, a shy smile on his face. It took all of Cas’s strength not to just start kissing him again. “So why’d you stop?”

“Because I’d like to take things slow with you, and if we keep going I don’t think I’ll be able to.”

“Oh,” Dean said. “I didn’t do it wrong or anything, did I..?”

Cas raised his eyebrows, laughing. “No.. no, you definitely did it right.”

Dean’s shoulders relaxed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as his smile widened. “Good. Good.” 

They sat in comfortable silence for a minute while Cas struggled to regain his composure. Dean cleaned up the ashtray, popping the lid back onto the coffee cup. He slouched back into his seat again, his gaze coming to rest on the curtained motel room. A million things darted through Cas’s head; luckily, Dean finally spoke again before he could blurt anything out.

“I’ve never done that before. With a guy, I mean.”

He sounded so reluctant that it took all of Cas’s strength not to just lean in and kiss him again. He wanted to go slow with Dean, but he also didn’t want to miss the window. He somehow managed to restrain himself. Cas cleared his throat and leaned up against the car seat, not making a move to pull further away just yet. “I kind of figured. Not that it wasn’t amazing--it was--but you seem a little uneasy about it.”

Dean reached up to rub the back of his neck, his words coming a bit haltingly. He was obviously struggling with the confession. “Maybe a little. I don’t know. I think I’ve been in denial about it.”

“Think?”

“Okay, I know I’ve been in denial about it.” Dean pulled a face, sighing heavily. “But if you grew up with my dad, you’d probably be the same way. He’s an ex-Marine, very gruff and manly and all that shit. I think I was always just scared that he’d beat the shit out of me if I ever acted on anything, you know?”

Cas reached over to squeeze his forearm. “I know. My parents know about me, but I was terrified to tell them.” 

Dean chewed on his lower lip, nodding faintly. “So yeah, I’ve never actually pursued anything. I’ve had plenty of girlfriends, but there have been one or two guys that caught my eye before. I never, ever thought I’d actually do anything about it--I just pushed everything down until you came along.”

There was no accusation in his tone. Cas didn’t miss the fondness that crept into Dean’s rough voice, and he didn’t try to hide the giddy grin that darted over his face.

“Well, I’d be happy to guide you out of the closet. I know you might not be ready to tell your dad, but does your brother know..?”

Dean glanced at him. “I think he has his suspicions, but he’s never said anything. Kid is usually too busy reading, anyway.”

Cas smiled. “He seems like a nice kid, especially for a teenager. I can’t say I’ve had the best experiences with them in the past.”

“He’s a good kid,” Dean said. It was impossible to miss the note of pride in his voice. “It’s mostly been me and him since mom died. Dad goes off on his own a lot, so I’ve been looking after him since I was about four.”

“Seriously?” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I don’t mind. It’s been the three of us for as long as I can remember, so that’s just what I’m used to. We never exactly had the apple pie, white picket fence upbringing.”

Cas hesitated a moment before taking a gamble, closing his hand over Dean’s. Dean froze for a second before he turned his hand face-up, allowing Cas to lace their fingers together. Cas watched as Dean studied their fingers, before giving his hand a small squeeze.

“I’m sure Sam knows how lucky he is to have you. I’ve got siblings, but other than Gabriel we’re not really close.”

Dean made a noise in the back of his throat, his gaze drifting back to the grimy motel wall in front of their parking space. Cas settled in to enjoy the quiet, not to mention the way Dean’s calloused hand fit snugly up against his. The moonlight filtered in through the vaguely foggy windshield, a crisp note to the breeze that ran through the cracked car windows. Cas’s eyes were starting to drift shut when Dean finally stirred again next to him.

“Hey, Cas?”

Cas glanced over at him, stifling a yawn. “Mm-hmm?”

Dean’s eyes were fixed on a smudge on the dashboard. “I think I’d like to tell you about what my dad does now.”

Cas sat up a little straighter, his tiredness and the buzz from the weed suddenly seeming less obtrusive. Dean still didn’t quite meet his gaze, and he was aware of an uneasiness blossoming in the pit of his stomach. Despite this, he found he was still eager for Dean to continue. 

“Okay, before I start.. please know that I’m not being a smartass or trying to prank you or anything like that. Everything I tell you is the truth - I don’t want to lie to you. Deal?”

Cas nodded, giving Dean’s hand a tight squeeze. “All right. I think I can handle that.”

Dean nodded, his thumb brushing over the back of Cas’s hand in a little circle. He drew a breath, exhaling with a shaky sigh. “I mentioned earlier, but my mom was killed when I was four. Sammy was still just a baby at the time, too. 

“Our house burned down, and I thought for a while it must have been an accident or something, but dad started looking into it. He was obsessed with figuring the whole thing out, and he dragged my brother and me along with him once we got to be old enough.”

Cas offered Dean a small frown. “That must have been difficult at that age. Did he ever figure out what happened..?”

“He did,” Dean said. He was quiet for almost a minute before finally continuing. “Mom was killed by a demon.”

Dean’s words didn’t sink in immediately. Cas’s first instinct was to laugh, but the expression on Dean’s face was too serious for that. He stared at him instead. “A--what? What do you mean?”

“A demon,” Dean repeated solemnly. “Dad spent years trying to hunt him down, and along the way he got swept up in hunting. Werewolves, shapeshifters, ghosts, angels.. you name it, we’ve hunted it. All the stories you’ve heard over the years, all the urban legends and campfire tales? It’s all true.” 

Dean paused, turning to watch him. Cas could feel the wheels in his head turning, disbelief and astonishment mixing with a healthy dose of skepticism.. but deep down, he trusted Dean. There wasn’t a flicker of teasing on his face - and no matter how bizarre the story, the sincerity behind it was rolling off of Dean in waves. He just didn’t quite know how to wrap his head around it.

He blinked. “I don’t know what to say. I mean, you don’t typically expect to hear something like ‘monsters are real’ on a date.”

“I’m not making it up--” Dean started.

“No, I know. I think. I mean, it all sounds fake, but I believe you. I’m a good judge of when people are lying to me, I just... I’m still processing. It may take me a little time.” He paused. “So you really hunt all that stuff? You and your family?”

Dean nodded and cleared his throat. “Have since I was a kid. I just grew up accepting all of it, but.. you, well, you’re handling it really well. I thought you’d be shoving me out of your car by now or something.” 

Cas let loose a shaky laugh, lifting Dean’s hand to press a kiss against the back of it. “I told you I had a high threshold for crazy.”

A hopeful glint flashed in Dean’s eyes, and Cas felt an indescribable surge of affection for him. He looked at their laced fingers before resting his head up against his shoulder; Dean drew in a steadying breath.

“I’ve never told anyone that before. You really don’t think I’m full of shit or something..?” He stole a glance at Cas, lips pursed together in a manner that betrayed his nerves. 

“Dean, of course not. I mean, it might take me a little bit of time to process.. and I will definitely have some questions later to be answered, but if this is who you are and what you do, then I accept--”

Cas was abruptly cut off when Dean leaned in to kiss him again. It was slower this time, and certainly less feverish, but it still left Cas dizzy. His free hand slid up to rest against Dean’s cheek, and when they broke away a minute later, they exchanged a familiar smile. 

Dean ultimately broke the silence between them, reluctantly loosening his grip on Cas’s hand. “I should probably go in. Sam might worry if he wakes up and I’m not there. Can we do this again soon, though..?”

He nodded. “Definitely. Maybe we can pick a better movie next time, too.”

That made Dean laugh, and he finally let go of Cas’s hand before reaching for the car door. “I know I unloaded a lot on you tonight, but I want you to know you can come to me if you ever have something you want off of your chest, too.”

Cas watched as Dean climbed out of the car, carefully shutting the door to keep the noise from echoing across the parking lot. Cas rolled his window down and leaned his head out, a wide grin on his face. “What if there’s something I want on my chest?”

Dean let out a peal of laughter, coming around the front of the car to Cas’s door. “You know how dirty that sounds, right?”

He winked. “Yes.” 

Dean braced his arm against the door and leaned down, kissing Cas gently. When he straightened up again, he reached out to push Cas’s glasses up on the bridge of his nose. 

“Be careful on the drive back. You’re still a little high.”

Cas waited until Dean was inside his room before turning the key in the ignition, backing out of his spot. He was giddy in a way that had little to do with his buzz, a silly smile plastered on his face as he drove. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he hoped it was Dean. He slowed down to pause at the intersection that led back to campus, waiting for a massive black muscle car to pass him before turning. After he was back on the road home, he flipped the radio on and sang all the way back home.

Gabriel was going to give him so much grief for this, and he didn’t care.

***

Sam was sprawled in his bed and snoring softly when Dean pulled the door closed behind him. He listened to the sounds of Cas’s crappy old car drive away, tongue snaking out to brush over his lip. The evening definitely took a turn he didn’t anticipate, but for the first time in a long while, he felt a surprising warmth in his chest rather than a clutch of panic. He kicked his boots off by the door and took his phone out, sending a quick “night ;)” to Cas before he could talk himself out of the winky face.

He padded into the bathroom to take a quick shower, shucking his clothes off in a pile by the sink. The shower was in a separate room behind a cheap particle board door, which he left ajar as he turned the water on. He squirted the last of the motel shampoo into his palm and ran his fingers through his hair, making a mental note to swing by the maid’s cart in the morning. The hot water sluiced over his chest, and he rinsed his hair and finished soaping up the rest of himself quickly before he could let his thoughts wander to Cas. He wasn’t about to jerk off with his little brother sleeping in the next room. 

He turned the water off and stepped over the edge of the tub, picking up one of the scratchy folded towels on a rack over the toilet. He hated the feel of the rough fibers, and he dried off as fast as possible. He was toweling off his hair when a loud bang on the outside door made him jump. Dean frowned and hurried to his suitcase, tugging on a pair of old flannel pajama pants. After a second of hesitation, he pulled his gun out from the bottom of the bag and slid it into the back of his waistband. 

Sam stirred in his bed, dragging a pillow over his head. Dean saw the shadow of a pair of feet under the crack at the bottom of the door - heavy work boots, definitely a guy judging by the size of them. He crept over and slid the safety chain through its holder before carefully cracking the door open. Dean squinted up at the tall man for a second while his eyes adjusted to the light, then blinked hard.

“Dad? What the hell..?” 

He took a step back so he could unlock the door’s chain, letting John in. His father looked like he hadn’t slept in a few days: he was unshaven and the smell of alcohol lingered on his clothes. John shut the door behind him and reached for the light as Dean set his gun on the table. 

“Didn’t know if you boys would still be up or not, but I didn’t want to pay for a second room.” 

“I’m not,” Sam muttered. He grunted and rolled over, his voice still muffled by the pillow. “I don’t know when Dean got back.”

John shrugged out of his jacket and threw it over one of the chairs in the kitchenette; Dean could hear the flask sloshing in his pocket with every move. He winced when the fluorescent lights flickered on overhead, resisting the urge to shade his eyes. 

“I’m not. I don’t know when Dean got back.” “No?”

John’s gaze swiveled over to Dean. Dean’s stomach clenched, and he reached up to brush away a bead of water that slid down the back of his neck. 

“I just went out to a movie. Sam was working on homework, and I had my phone with me.”

John studied him for a second before grunting, pulling the small refrigerator open. He grabbed a slice of leftover pizza, leaving the box out while he leaned up against the edge of the counter. Sam pushed himself up to sit, squinting in the harsh light. 

“Why are you here?” Sam asked. “I thought you said you’d be gone awhile. It’s only been two weeks.”

John swallowed his mouthful of pizza. “So I came back early. Who cares? Just means we can get on the road sooner.”

Dean stared at his father. “What are you talking about? We can’t leave yet, you said we’d be here long enough for Sam to finish the school year.”

“He can take his school work to go. I’m sure they can work something out.”

Dean and Sam exchanged a look. Dean could feel his heart hammering, the blood rushing in his ears. Sam pushed his messy hair back from his face before scowling at their father.

“I can’t just take it to go, it’s not food. I want to finish. It’s only another month and change; it wouldn’t hurt if we just stayed in one place for a little bit.”

John’s mouth turned down into a frown. “Why would you want to stay here? You can just do correspondence courses. I got a lead on a vampire nest down in Springfield that we could get a jump on--”

Dean cut him off. “Dad. Seriously. You might not think Sam’s schooling is important, but he does--I don’t want him to end up like me.”

“Yeah, and I’m not going.” Sam shot their father an insolent look before flopping back down into bed, pulling the covers with him as he turned his back on them. Dean could feel John’s eyes boring into him, but he wasn’t going to budge. There were other important things besides Sam’s junior year at stake, but he wasn’t about to let on.

John opened his mouth a few times, at a loss. He finally snorted and tossed the pizza crust onto the box, brushing his hands off on his jeans. 

“You both really want to stay in this dump?”

Sam didn’t answer. Dean drew in a deep breath before nodding, reaching up to rake his fingers back through his hair. “Yeah, dad. We both kind of assumed we’d get to spend a little time here, and Sam’s doing well in school. Why don’t you go to Springfield? You can call Bobby, maybe see if he wants to meet you. He needs to get out more anyway.”

“Whatever. If this goes sideways and I need your help, that’s on your heads.” John eyed Dean for a long moment before brushing past him, picking up his coat. “I smell that shit on you, son. I’m not stupid, I can tell when you’re high as a kite. And if I ever catch you doing that around me, I’ll knock your goddamn head off.”

Dean chewed on the inside of his cheek, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Yes, sir.”

He stayed that way until he heard the door slam, the Impala’s engine rumbling to life a minute later. His shoulders slumped and he crossed the floor quickly, turning the deadbolt and sliding the chain back into place. The lights thrummed overhead, and he killed those before crawling into his own bed. He knew he ought to brush his teeth, but his mouth still tasted like a wonderful mix of weed and Cas.

Dean settled down under the covers, going over the strange shape this day had taken. Even with the unexpected appearance of his father, he still felt overwhelmingly buoyant. Sure, he didn’t know how long they’d be in Columbia. He didn’t know what the hell would happen between him and Cas--or what he would do if John ever found out. But right now he felt more relaxed with himself than he had in years.

He heard Sam roll over in the next bed, the cheap sheets crumpling under him like tissue paper. 

“Thanks, Dean. I really appreciate it,” Sam said. He paused for a second before continuing. “And don’t let Dad get to you.”

Dean smiled up at the ceiling, folding his arms under his head. “I won’t, Sammy. Go to sleep.”


	4. Chapter 4

Dean had been in Columbia for a month when Cas realized he was definitely falling for the flannel-clad dork. Since their first date at the movies a few weeks before, they had spent as much time as possible together. Dean snuck away whenever Sam was in school or busy with his new friends. They spent hours driving around in Cas’s crappy Lincoln, they hung out at his apartment when Gabriel was busy, and they spent time at Dean’s motel when nowhere else was available. Despite Dean’s initial reluctance about getting too physical, they had grown a lot more comfortable with each other over the past few weeks.

One memorable morning at the café, Benny caught them trading sloppy blowjobs in the back supply room. Cas had Dean pressed up against one of the pastry racks, his knees digging into the flour-covered floor when he heard a curse behind him. Benny was good-natured enough about it, but he did pelt Cas in the back of the head with a croissant before making a speedy exit. He and Dean both dissolved in helpless laughter before finishing each other off. 

After a grueling week of coffee-making and homework, Cas found himself facing a blissfully free weekend. He invited Dean over, of course - Gabriel was out for the day and wouldn’t be back for hours. Dean took his usual bus route and they packed a bowl of Gabriel’s stash before snuggling up on the couch, passing the pipe back and forth while they watched a ridiculous made-for-TV movie. Halfway through, Dean got distracted by nibbling Cas’s earlobe.

Cas laughed and tried to shy away, though he didn’t put up much of a fight. He liked when Dean let down his guard and allowed himself to be affectionate. “Mm.. are you telling me you’re not riveted by zombies in the snow?”

“Not at all,” Dean laughed, his breath tickling against his skin. 

He rolled his head over to the side to allow more room for Dean, dragging a blanket down from the back of the couch to wrap around them. Dean grinned and stayed obediently still as the soft woven thing draped around them, then resumed his nibbling. Cas could feel his cheeks going pink, a warm flush spreading through him. The feel of Dean’s mouth against his skin did nothing to help him focus on the film. He picked up the remote to pause it, a laugh welling up in his throat. 

“Okay, you get ten minutes, then it’s back to zombies. Unless you’d rather just move this party to my room..?”

Dean hesitated, pressing a brief kiss against his jaw before sitting up slightly. He looked doubtfully at Cas before leaning up against his side with a sigh.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to,” he began. 

Cas arched his eyebrows, bumping his head up against Dean’s as he tried to keep his tone carefully light. “But..?”

“But I’ve never.. you know. Done more than what we’ve already done with a guy.” He paused before blurting out the rest, the tips of his ears scarlet. “I want to--I mean, fuck, I really want to, I just..”

Cas cut him off, giving him a fond smile. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything else until you’re ready. I don’t mind.”

A relieved look darted across Dean’s face, and he reached up to sheepishly rub the back of his neck. “You know, that’s usually my line. Of course, that usually leads to a quickie in the back of a car.”

“Don’t tempt me.” Cas winked at him. “And don’t get too caught up in what ‘your line’ is supposed to be.. this is clearly new territory, so just enjoy things. We’ll see where it goes.”

Dean was quiet for a minute before Cas felt him nod. His lips migrated back down to Cas’s jaw, nose bumping against his cheek. “I can do that. I still get ten minutes, right?”

“I’ll even throw in an extra minute since you were so open with me.” Cas reached up to brush his fingers back through Dean’s short hair, fingers scratching slow circles against his head. Dean relaxed, murmuring in the back of his throat as he started to suck a little bruise on his jaw. Cas sank down against the cushions, closing his eyes with a contented sigh.

The movie was quickly forgotten. Cas found himself tangled up in Dean, lazily trading kisses under the blanket. His hand was tucked under the back of Dean’s shirt, pressed up against the skin on the small of his back. They somehow managed to both lie down on the couch, squeezing side-by-side in the small space. Dean had his knee wedged between Cas’s legs, just tantalizingly close enough to tease him without any real contact. For someone with no experience, Cas thought he was certainly a quick learner. 

Dean just started to grind his hips into Cas’s when his phone vibrated in his pocket, startling them both. He pulled back an inch or two from Cas with a groan, his lips pink and swollen. Cas kept one arm snug around Dean’s waist as he shifted to fish his phone out, not wanting him to fall off the side of the couch. Dean looked at the caller ID and rolled his eyes, raising the phone to his ear.

“Yeah, Dad?”

Cas could just barely make out the gruff voice on the other end of the line. Dean’s brow furrowed as he listened, his head flopping against the arm of the couch. 

“I’m a little busy right now, actually--”

A pause. “It has to be tonight?” 

Cas watched as Dean finished up his conversation, feeling a dart of sympathy when he saw the stress creep back into Dean’s face as he talked. He couldn’t hear the other half of the conversation, but he could surmise that this wasn’t an atypical occurrence. There was nothing warm or affectionate about the voice on the line, and while he wasn’t necessarily close with his own parents, they still treated him like a son. The barked orders that he could overhear sounded like commands from a general rather than a father. 

Dean hung up the phone with a grumble. “Sorry about that. Apparently Dad has a job for me tonight--should be pretty standard. Apparently there’s some Civil War ghost at one of the colleges here that’s been terrorizing students. I’ll have to look into it, see if I can find anything about it before I go after it. Just means I have to leave in an hour to get ready for the damn thing.”

Cas blinked. “Wait--is it Stephens College?”

“Yeah.” He raised his eyebrows, settling back down next to Cas. “Do you know about it?”

Cas nodded, his arm still draped around Dean. He traced a pattern of circles against his back, trying to calm him down after dealing with his father. “Of course. Gabriel gave me a book about local hauntings when I moved here - I think he was trying to be funny. Stephens was founded back in the 1830s, if I remember right. There are a few ghosts on the campus, but the one you’re talking about - Sarah Wheeler? She was a student there during the war.”

“That must have been fun for her.” Dean closed his eyes, arching into Cas’s touch. 

“Not so much,” Cas said. “Apparently she got involved with a Confederate soldier. She and a few of her friends hid him in their dorm while he fled a rival. When the soldier was discovered, he was executed by firing squad in front of the dormitory--kind of as a warning to others who might consider befriending the enemy. Apparently Sarah was so distraught she hung herself.”

Dean groaned. “Of course she did. People do stupid things in the name of love. You don’t happen to know which building it was, do you? And if she was buried anywhere nearby?”

Cas eyed him for a second before leaning in to drop a quick kiss on his pretty lips. “According to legend, she was cremated. And I do know the building, as a matter of fact--I can show you.”

Dean’s shoulders tensed, a wary note creeping into his voice. “I don’t know if I should bring you with me tonight, Cas.”

He scoffed, snuggling in against his side. “I’m your information. Thanks to me, you don’t have to spend the rest of the afternoon researching. You said it should be easy, right..?”

Dean cracked his eyes open to watch Cas. “Yeah, but--”

“If it’s easy, I can handle it. Maybe I can help. And if I can’t, then I’ll drive your getaway car and stay out of trouble.”

Cas watched Dean with a hopeful gleam in his blue eyes, which shone wide behind his glasses. He watched as Dean considered this, his nose twitching after a minute.

“Okay, fine. Only because you kept me from having to hunch over the computer later. But I’m giving you Ghost 101 before we do anything, deal?”

Cas laughed, reaching up to brush his fingertips against Dean’s cheekbone. “Deal. You can tell me everything I need to know about ghosts, and I’ll help you figure out how to get into the building tonight. And until then, you should probably kiss me again. Just for luck.”

Dean was more than happy to oblige.

***

Senior Hall was pretty creepy at night; Dean was man enough to admit that. The three-story red brick behemoth was probably gorgeous during the day, but at night it felt decidedly unnerving. Once he and Cas finally managed to keep their hands off each other, Dean set to work on planning. Since most of his weapons were still in the back of John’s car, he had to improvise - he had his Zippo in his pocket and iron fire pokers for both him and Cas. Cas knew someone who worked on campus who came into the café frequently; a quick phone call guaranteed that the back door would be left unlocked after the janitors made a nightly sweep of the building.

They were in the quadrangle now, looking up at the dark building. Dean studied Cas for a second, looking for any sign of nerves or unease; he seemed calm despite the unusual situation, which impressed Dean. He reached over to give his arm a soft poke before chuckling quietly. 

“Ready?”

Cas nodded and they set off around the side of the building. Dean peered in the windows as they walked. The first floor held a lot of fussy antique furniture, bookshelves, and paintings that looked like they came from a rich old lady’s estate sale. It was like looking back in time, and the thought made his skin crawl. 

Cas glanced over his shoulder once they were behind Senior Hall, looking for any sign of people. “I feel like we’re breaking in to steal something. Do you ever get used to the trespassing..?

“It’s one of the perks.” Dean winked, hoping to reassure him. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I can go in alone if you’re having second thoughts.”

“I’m not letting you go in alone.” Cas shot him an obstinate look, and Dean pushed the wave of affection down for now. They’d have plenty of time to flirt after the hunt, and he wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible. He pushed the door open and headed inside, leaving it ajar behind them. The building was silent: what had obviously once been a historic dormitory now appeared to be a music building, judging by the spacious recital hall just visible around the corner. He glanced at Cas, lowering his voice. 

“Any idea where her room would have been?”

Cas nodded. “Third floor, I think. They kept the parlor open down here, but the upstairs is music rooms and a few dance studios.” 

Dean motioned for him to follow, aiming for the staircase. With the fire poker gripped snugly in one hand, he started quietly up the stairs. He could hear Cas a few feet behind him, his footfalls soft and surprisingly comforting in the eerie quiet. They passed the landing on the second floor and continued, the building just barely illuminated by the moonlight. The air grew cooler as they ascended--definitely something paranormal on the premises. A familiar skitter of anticipation bubbled just under his skin at the realization, coupled with something foreign. Dean looked back over his shoulder to make sure Cas was still there, flashing him a small, encouraging smile. 

“It’s getting colder,” Cas whispered, fingers tightened around his iron fire poker. Once they made it to the third floor, they paused on the landing as Dean got a feel for the layout. There were a few halls that shot off of the main corridor, leading to what he guessed were the music rooms. A wide window at the end of the main corridor overlooked the quad, and Dean guessed he would be able to see the grassy area where he and Cas stood just a few minutes earlier. A few shadow boxes hung on the wall opposite, filled with something that looked like well-preserved knickknacks. 

He nodded to Cas and started down one of the hallways, peering into each room as they passed. They found a row of small, indistinguishable practice rooms, each with a small window and a piano. Dean exchanged a look with Cas once they reached the end of the hallway, his eyebrows arching. 

“Think it’s more of the same down the other hall?” He asked. Cas’s voice was a whisper when he responded.

“I’m pretty sure, but we can check. I think there are some offices, too--”

He stopped short when he realized his breath was curling out past his lips in visible fog. Dean went still, eyes darting back to the main corridor as he tightened his grip on the poker. He reached behind Cas’s back to fumble around the wall for a light switch. The overhead lights flickered on, humming mechanically for only a second before guttering again. Dean swore under his breath.

“Come on, let’s get back to the main area.” He didn’t like feeling trapped at the end of the hall, and he steered Cas forward with a gentle hand on his back. This was a decent first hunt, he absently thought - a textbook haunting. Cas seemed to be handling it well so far, too; he was alert and steady, and had a hell of a cute smile to boot. He brushed those thoughts out of his mind and refocused on the situation, squinting in the moonlight. They skirted down to the next hallway, which had another row of simple practice rooms. 

Dean was about to speak when a pair of discordant piano notes rang out down the hall. He felt Cas go tense beside him as the notes ran up into a grating trill. His gaze darted over to the shadowbox near the window and he wondered if they had time to inch down there before she showed up - one of Cas’s books mentioned that some possessions from former students were on display in the historic building. 

Dean kept his voice low as the music continued. “Remember, Cas - if she shows up, hit her with the iron. That’ll slow her down while we get this shit burned, okay?”

He fished his Zippo out of his pocket, holding it in his free hand before taking a slow step back. He kept his gaze trained on Cas as he crept along, his stomach tight and anxious - he wasn’t used to worrying about anyone else on hunts. His dad and Sam had been doing this for years; he could anticipate what they were going to do even before they knew. But this was different. He felt totally responsible for bringing Cas along, even if the other man had insisted. There was more at stake now. 

Dean backed along another floorboard until his foot came down on the seam, a low creak sounding. The music suddenly stopped, the absence of sound like an echo upstairs. Something flickered into being near the top of the stairs: a young woman who would have been quite beautiful apart from the rope burns on her neck. Her hair was pulled back from her face and her dress looked like a heavy dark fabric, complete with full sleeves and a hoop skirt. 

She was staring at them.

Maybe thirty feet of floor space stood between the ghost and where they stood. Cas was a few steps ahead of him, and he still had a bit until he could reach the shadowbox. 

He lowered his tone. “Doing okay, Cas..?”

“Oh, I’m peachy.” His voice was a low rumble, hardly a whisper. The woman flickered and advanced a few feet closer; Dean took the opportunity to take another edging step towards the items. Cas adjusted his grip on the fire iron, keeping his eyes trained on the ghost as she hovered near the stairs. Dean studied the woman as he inched back--until his boot caught on the edge of the rug. He stumbled and managed to regain his footing, but the disturbance had her attention. 

Her image quivered again, guttered, and vanished--before reappearing right in front of Dean, her arms outstretched and her face twisted into a grimace. Dean cursed and lifted his iron to swing, but something swished past him and the woman vanished. He looked up to see Cas brandishing his weapon, his eyes wide and owlish behind his glasses.

“Thanks,” Dean grunted, grabbing him by the sleeve and scrambling back. He nearly tripped again on the rug as he pulled Cas over to the window. “She could be back any second, watch the hall.”

They stood back to back while Dean squinted at the boxes. There were three spaced out on the wall, each with a tarnished brass plaque on the front. He squinted down at the first name - Geraldine Forrester - before moving onto the next shadowbox. There was a thick leather journal inside with a feathered quill pen besides it. A quick glance at the nameplate confirmed that the items belonged to Sarah Wheeler.

“Um, not to rush you, Dean--”

Cas’s arm bumped into his shoulder as he swung the poker, sending Sarah away in another swirling cloud. Dean didn’t have time to figure out how the damn thing opened, so he shattered the glass with his elbow and shoved the items into the oversized pocket of his jacket. He and Cas took off at a dead sprint down the hall, no longer caring around the noise. They thundered down the first set of stairs when Sarah blinked into existence on the second floor landing. Dean aimed a hard swing at her head before grabbing Cas by the wrist to get him moving again.

He was breathing hard by the time they made it to the last set, but there was mercifully no ghost in sight. He skidded to a stop at the base of the stairs, gaze pivoting wildly around for the way out. “We’ll burn the stuff outside, I don’t want to risk starting a fire in here.”

They ran through the hallway that led past the ornate recital hall, with Dean a few feet ahead of Cas. He started to skid around the corner when he heard a sudden crash and a yelp of pain behind him. The bottom dropped out of his stomach as he realized the second set of footsteps were silent. He swore and doubled back, fighting a wave of nausea when he saw Cas crumpled up against the baseboards. 

Sarah Wheeler stood over him with a strange smile on her face. It only took her a second to realize Dean was watching before she started to advance on him. He swung the poker at her like a sword before spinning on his heel to pelt towards the door. He dropped the fire poker once the door was in sight, tugging the objects and lighter from his pocket. Sarah juddered into the doorway moments after he burst onto the sidewalk; Dean already had the flame against pages, his furious stare lit up in the dark night as the book and quill burst into hungry flames. 

Sarah’s mouth wrenched into a silent scream as flames engulfed her. She was gone as quickly as she had appeared, and Dean dropped the ignited items onto the concrete, satisfied that the flames wouldn’t spread. He realized his hands were shaking as pulled the door open again, hurrying back to Cas with a feeling of dread in his chest. 

He dropped to his knees where Cas was still sprawled against the baseboards; he hadn’t moved. A trickle of blood was starting to congeal on Cas’s face, dripping down from from his temple along his cheek. Dean swallowed hard when he saw the egg-shaped lump rising on the side of his head. Dean pressed his fingers against the hollow of Cas’s neck, squeezing his eyes shut tight. His pulse was there, still elevated from their escape, and it was all Dean could do not to sigh in relief. 

He braced Cas’s neck with his hand and gently eased him into a sitting position. Cas made an incoherent noise of protest, his head lolling forward. He was still unconscious. Dean carefully wrapped his arms around his waist, tucking Cas’s head up against his shoulder for support. His hand stroked a small, soothing pattern against his back as he swayed them.

His voice was little more than a murmur when he finally was able to speak. “I’m so sorry, Cas.”

This guilt thing was a real bitch.

***

Light from the streetlamps came and went in flares as the Lincoln silently rolled down the street. The rocking car soothed Cas as he drifted in and out of clarity, aware of little more than a throbbing in his head and Dean in the driver’s seat, white-knuckling the old steering wheel. He guessed they were somewhere near his apartment, judging by the familiar surroundings he glimpsed with his cheek pressed against the cool glass of the window. 

Dean glanced over at him, his voice quiet and uncharacteristically hesitant. “Are you awake?”

Cas grunted in response. He felt something sticky on his cheek, and his hand reached up to gingerly feel the goose egg on his head. 

“Yeah, I think so. What happened..?”

Dean slowed down to a near-stop, flipping on the turn signal before finally answering him. “I don’t know. We were running, you were right behind me, then something happened. I just heard a crash and you were on the floor.”

Cas nodded, giving a dull laugh. “So much for my first foray into hunting. Did you get her?”

“Yeah.. I did.” Dean made his way down the block and swung Cas’s impossibly large car into one of the spots on the street, looking over at him. “I should have been there with you, though. I should have let you go first or something. I shouldn’t have take my eye off of you. I’m sorry--”

Cas waved off Dean’s protestations, climbing out of the car with a wince. The sidewalk was deserted, and he waited for Dean to lock up before shaking his head. “It was my choice to go. All that matters right now is that you stopped her before she could hurt anyone else.”

Dean made a noncommittal noise but offered Cas a reluctant smile. With Dean’s help, they made it up the front steps and into the building. Another round of assistance on the rickety wooden stairs led them up to the landing in front of the apartment, and they slipped in. Dean fiddled with the lock while Cas turned on the lights, frowning at the empty Chinese container on the coffee table. He noticed a note laying on the table nearby and staggered over to read it, dropping down on the couch.

“Gabriel’s out for the weekend--nice of him to warn me. Apparently a friend of his got some Alaskan Thunder Fuck, whatever that is.” 

Dean hung back a few feet, his gaze trained on Cas’s bloodied face. “It’s a strain of sativa from Alaska--weed. It’s weed. You can check in on him later, I really need to get you cleaned up. It looks like you’ve got a nasty cut.”

Cas tossed the note back on the table. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom under the sink.”

He watched Dean disappear down the hall; the sounds of him rummaging in the bathroom drifted out a minute later. He slouched against the sofa cushions, ignoring the pounding in his head as he let the contents of Gabriel’s note sink in. He hadn’t had the apartment to himself in months, and last time he spent the whole time reading. He certainly hadn’t had a gorgeous guy hanging around. Given their conversation earlier in the day, he wasn’t about to bring up sex again.. but he wouldn’t be opposed to another marathon make-out session once his head stopped pounding.

Dean came back a few minutes later with his hands full and a damp washcloth draped over his arm. He sank down next to Cas, letting the supplies fall into his lap as he reached out to turn his face towards the light.

“I’ve gotten pretty good at this stuff over the years,” he said. Cas felt the washcloth press over his cut, and Dean’s gentle touch gave him a rush of endearment. He let Dean clean his face and examine the knot on his head; Dean gave him a few ibuprofen to dry swallow before dabbing a little ointment on his skin, bandaging him up.

“Thank you.” Cas flashed him a small smile, watching him quietly. “Dean?”

He raised his eyebrows, folding up the soiled washcloth before brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Mm..?

Cas drew in a deep, steady breath. “Will you stay with me tonight? No expectations, no pressure, nothing like that. I just want to spend time with you.”

He could see the wheels turning in Dean’s mind. Dean set the bandages and ointment on the coffee table before he finally nodded, the faintest hint of a smile visible from where Cas sat.

“Of course. I texted Sam hours ago, he knows how long hunts can take. He can look after himself tonight.”

They both settled back on the couch to recharge after the hunt, turning on some mindless nighttime television as they huddled together under a blanket. At some point, Dean fetched a beer for himself and brought Cas some water, nestling back down with him. The shows drifted from sitcom reruns to a nature documentary, and by the time the infomercials finally started trickling in, Cas’s head was resting against Dean’s shoulder. He closed his eyes as Dean turned off the cable before kissing the side of his head. 

“C’mon. Bed.” 

Cas glanced at him with a quiet laugh. “You’re so bossy. Do you want to sleep in my room or do you want me to make a bed for you on the couch..?”

Dean crawled out from under the blanket, leaving it in a pile as they stood. “Your room is fine, if you don’t mind. I think I’m a little tall for the couch.”

There wasn’t a touch of hesitation in Dean’s voice, and Cas looked at him curiously. His headache had long since abated, and he turned off the living room lights before following Dean down the hall to Cas’s room. He found an old, soft t-shirt and pajama pants for Dean and left him to change while he brushed his teeth. 

Dean was just pulling on the shirt when Cas made it back, and he caught a glimpse of the flat plane of Dean’s stomach before the shirt smoothed down. The view made his mouth go dry, and he swallowed hard before his voice could divulge his attraction.

“I left an extra toothbrush on the counter for you,” he said. Dean nodded and winked at him, sidling past to head for the bathroom; he left his clothes in a tidy, folded stack on Cas’s desk chair. Cas changed into pajamas before turning down the bedding, switching on the bedside lamp in lieu of the harsh overhead light. He plunked down on his side of the bed, sliding his feet under the covers. Dean returned a couple minutes later and faltered for a brief moment at the foot of the bed before joining him. 

He tugged the covers up and sank back into the pillows with an appreciative sigh. “Christ, I’ve been sleeping on motel mattresses for too long. Is your bed always this comfortable?”

Cas chuckled, flopping down onto his side to watch Dean. “I never thought about it like that, but I suppose it is. It’s nice to have someone else here to enjoy it, too.” 

The dim lamplight gave everything a rosy glow, even the soft blue sheets on his bed. Once Dean settled down, Cas reached out to drape an arm over his waist. Some of the tension eased out of Dean’s muscles, and he gave Cas a sheepish smile before leaning in for a soft kiss. Cas leaned into it without complaint, his nose bumping against Dean’s cheek in an effort to get closer. 

Dean broke off from the kiss with a laugh, his voice a low rumble in his throat. “Knocked out by a ghost and you’re still unstoppable, hmm..?”

“I can slow down, if you want.” Cas felt his face flush as he gave his waist a squeeze.

Dean’s laughter faded and he held Cas’s gaze, a shockingly earnest look on his face. “No.. I definitely don’t want you to do that.”

The space between them was charged, electric. Cas felt a shiver settle over his skin. Something about the way Dean’s expression shifted so swiftly had his pulse quickening. Cas cocked his head before leaning in to press an experimental kiss to his lips. Dean’s mouth parted under Cas’s, open and inviting - and Cas was never one to turn down an invitation. 

His tongue brushed over Dean’s lower lip before pressing into his mouth; the sheets rustled around them as Cas pressed in closer against his chest. A minute passed before Dean’s hand settled on Cas’s hip, their kiss quickly devolving into something feverish. 

Whether it was the final dregs of post-hunt adrenaline or maybe the ambience of finally being tangled up together in bed, Cas didn’t care. Dean’s teeth snagged against his lip as their kiss deepened, tongues sliding against each other hungrily. Cas ran his hands back through Dean’s hair as he shifted in bed, breathing hard through his nose. 

After a moment, Dean broke away with a gasp for air. His cheeks were flushed, which only made his freckles stand out more. Cas watched him as he caught his breath. Dean licked his lip and looked at Cas.

“You know that thing we talked about earlier?”

Cas nodded, holding his breath. 

“I’m ready.” 

The apartment was silent as they watched each other, Dean’s fingers still resting against Cas’s hip. He looked so resolute that Cas’s face split into a smile. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, his mouth open to speak. Cas pulled him in for another kiss before he could start, hand sliding under his t-shirt to skirt over his skin. He could feel Dean’s dick pressing firmly against his leg, and he was already painfully hard himself. They fell right back into their kiss; Cas certainly didn’t want to rush. He knew this was a whole new domain for Dean, and he wanted it to be memorable. 

Dean was more than happy to follow his lead. As they kissed, Cas peeled both of their shirts off, coming up for air only to tug the fabric over their heads. He caught sight of a tattoo on Dean’s chest that he hadn’t noticed before, but he pushed it to the back of his mind and slid his hand over the front of Dean’s pajamas. The contact elicited a groan from Dean, and Cas slowly stroked him through the fabric as he let his kisses trail along his jaw. 

They shucked their pants off shortly afterwards, and Cas let his hands fall away as he sat up to admire him. He trailed his fingertips along the line of his chest and over his stomach, letting his palms ghost over Dean’s hips as he drank in the sight of him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said reverently. Dean’s blush deepened, a shy smile curving over his mouth. He seemed bashful, though his gaze kept sliding over Cas’s body in a way that made it hard to think. 

“So are you.”

Cas laughed and tugged his glasses off, tossing them onto the nightstand before sliding the drawer open. He rifled through papers and cough drops until his fingers closed around what he was looking for - a bottle of lube. Dean’s eyes widened when he saw it; Cas caught his eye and after a moment, a beat of mutual understanding passed between them. 

Cas sat back on his heels next to Dean, who was still lying sprawled under the covers. He flipped the cap on the bottle. “I don’t want to rush things tonight.. it’ll be a lot more enjoyable for you if we don’t rush.” 

Dean swallowed, his adam’s apple bobbing. “I trust you. Just--if I do anything wrong, tell me.”

“You’re not going to do anything wrong. Being here with you, it means the world to me.” 

Cas trailed off as he upended the bottle, squeezing a slow drizzle into his hand. He shifted on the bed, his free hand sliding down to nudge Dean’s legs apart. Dean closed his eyes as he let Cas guide him, drawing his lower lip between his teeth. Without taking his eyes off of Dean, he pressed a slippery finger against him, allowing him a second to get used to the sensation before slipping a finger inside him with painstaking slowness. 

Dean’s breath caught in his throat as Cas fingered him, a blush spreading up over his neck as his body adjusted to it. After a few minutes, Cas slid another finger in and stroked his hip with his free hand as he slowly scissored him open. He watched Dean’s mouth drop open as he groaned - he looked exquisite, all flushed and needy, his hair rumpled from arching back against the bed.

Cas let his hand fall away after another minute. Dean’s eyes fluttered open and he watched Cas in a daze, legs still spread in debauched glory. Cas grabbed a condom from his night table, tearing it open and rolling it down over his own deprived cock. He squirted another measure of lube into his hand, tossing the bottle aside before giving himself a few quick strokes to slick himself up. 

He flashed Dean an intimate smile as he situated himself between his legs. His hands slid reverently up over Dean’s thighs before wrapping his bowed legs around his hips. 

“I’ll go slow,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Dean nodded and started to close his eyes, but Cas reached up with his free hand to stroke his cheek. “Look at me..?”

Dean obediently met his gaze, his chest hitching as he inhaled in a way that belied his nerves. Cas gave him a cute smile as he reached down to guide himself, giving Dean a second to prepare before he started to slowly sink into him. A noise bubbled up in Dean’s throat and he winced; Cas slowed his movement, letting him adjust every inch of the way. When he finally bottomed out, they both let out a gasping exhale. 

Cas leaned down to steal a kiss before studying him, framing Dean’s chest with his arms pressed into the mattress. “Are you okay..?”

Dean groaned quietly, his jaw giving a little twitch. “Yeah--just give me a sec.”

Once Dean bobbed his head in a quick nod, Cas slowly started to move against him. He took his time even as heat blossomed in pit of his stomach, gradually picking up speed until he was driving steadily into him. Dean’s groans turned into gasps of pleasure that were eventually muffled by a kiss. Cas had one hand gripping his thigh, his knees digging into the mattress for traction. Dean licked into Cas’s mouth as a whimper escaped him. 

The headboard thudded quietly against the wall with each thrust, but neither of them noticed - Dean’s mouth pressed a line of kisses down his throat. Cas felt lost in Dean, unmoored and blissfully unaware. He could feel himself getting close, his hips twitching forward as he struggled to hold on. Dean slid his hand between them to start stroking himself, trying to match time with Cas’s thrusts. He broke away from the kiss and his head rolled back against the bed.

Cas only made it through a few more jerks forward before his abdominal muscles tightened and he came with a shuddering cry. Dean’s hand slowed between them and Cas felt wet heat on his stomach as Dean clenched around him. He slumped down on top of him with a low moan, struggling to catch his breath. It was a long while before Dean’s leg unwrapped from around his waist, his hand sliding soothingly up over his back.

“That was..” Dean began before shaking his head, thinking. His voice was hoarse when he spoke again. “I hate clichés, so I’m just gonna leave it at that. Fuck.” 

Cas’s laugh reverberated in his chest. “Yes, we did.”

Dean arched up to kiss Cas then, an unexpected tenderness behind it that made Cas’s eyes sting. He closed them and followed Dean’s lead in the leisurely kiss, in no hurry to extricate himself from the embrace. 

When they finally resurfaced again, Dean pressed their foreheads together before breaking off into a sleepy, contented yawn. Pride flared up in the back of Cas’s mind as he reluctantly rolled next to Dean. They were both asleep in minutes.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean’s body sang for days afterwards. He couldn’t begin to describe or even process it, but he felt more at ease with himself than he had in years. If he had to put a name to how he felt, it would probably be something close to relief. Or joy. Either way, he felt freaking awesome and couldn’t help but get a stupid little smile on his face every time he thought about Cas. 

Even Sam picked up on it. He came home after school one day to find Dean whistling to himself as he moved around the kitchenette, trying to cobble dinner together with the little food they had. Sam dropped his backpack on his bed and slumped into his chair, clearly exhausted from finals. He eyed his brother, tilting his head.

“You’re, like.. weirdly happy lately.”

Dean laughed, flicking a few drops of water at him. “Are you complaining that I’m happy? It’s not my fault you’ve been in grumpy student mode all week.”

“I’m not complaining,” Sam said. “I just don’t know where it came from. I mean, whatever you’re doing, keep it up. Just stop whistling when I’m studying.”

The rest of the week passed in much the same way, Sam with his nose in his books and Dean sneaking off to see Cas whenever he could. Their first night together was hardly a one-off. After one unforgettable day when Cas skipped class so they could spend all day in bed, Dean could barely walk back to the bus stop. He winced the entire ride back, but it was totally worth it. 

Before long, the end of the school year came and went for Sam and Cas. Sam stashed his books in the top of the motel closet and snuck off with a six pack of Dean’s beer to share with some of his new school friends. Dean didn’t notice it was missing until after the bus trundled off, and he sent Sam a warning text to not get caught. Cas had a short shift at the café, but they planned to meet up for diner after he was done. Dean skimmed over the messages they sent to each other earlier in the day before going to root around in his duffel bag for his stash. If he had to spend a few hours alone, he might as well enjoy himself.

Judging by the half-empty bag he found in a pair of clean socks, he definitely needed to see Gabriel again soon. He wanted to restock his supply and it would be harder to do with Sam out of school. Dean quickly packed a bowl and found his lighter, standing and stretching before flopping across his lumpy bed. Since Sam wouldn’t be home for hours, he wasn’t too worried about getting caught and he wanted to relax before Cas came to pick him up.

Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket, thumbing through the few playlists he had before settling predictably on some classic Zeppelin. He left it playing quietly on the nightstand and crawled up to prop himself against the pillows. He stretched his legs out in front of him and stuck the pipe in his mouth, lighting up to take a deep hit. 

He closed his eyes and let his head roll back against the wall, exhaling a cloud of smoke. His thoughts drifted to Cas while he smoked, a dazed smile on his face. This whole thing between them had really sprung out of nowhere - he didn’t have any intention of tumbling down the hole into a relationship, and he had no idea how or if he was going to tell his brother. His father was another story.. and telling him was completely out of the question. He sucked in another lungful of smoke, settling back again. No, his dad was a former Marine. He could hear his gruff voice in the back of his head, spouting off about how no son of his would ever be a damn sissy. 

His thoughts were cut short by the bleat of his ringtone in between the music that streamed from his phone. He balanced his pipe on the nightstand and grimaced when he finally saw the caller ID - speak of the devil. He ran his hand up over his face before answering. 

“Hey, Dad.”

John’s voice sounded distant and tinny; the sound of wind and a low rumble from Baby’s engine told him he was driving. 

“You never told me how that ghost job went.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his head from spinning. “That’s really how you’re gonna say hello? Yeah, I took care of it. Are you driving..?

He remembered what John said the last time he caught him high. His father gave a humorless chuckle on the other end. “Bobby just left to head home. I’ll probably go pack up my room at the motel and grab a bite to eat, but I should be back tonight sometime.”

“Oh.” Dean’s stomach squirmed uncomfortably and his eyes darted to the clock. He listened to the rest of John’s questions before hanging up, picking up his pipe again to take one last hit. Cas still had a few more hours at the café, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t go visit. He cleaned up his paraphernalia and sprayed some deodorant into the air to freshen things up. At second thought, he sprayed some on himself as well before pocketing his keys and wallet. 

A few minutes later, he found himself outside waiting impatiently for the bus. He sent Sam a warning text so he wouldn’t be caught off guard by the sudden appearance of John. The feeling in the pit of his stomach had spread further now, and a general feeling of unease was creeping through his body. The bus driver shot him a familiar wave when he pulled up to the curb, and Dean paid his fare before going to his usual plastic seat. The ride was quick enough, especially since he had figured out weeks ago that there was a stop even closer to Cas’s work. He hopped off and headed inside the now-familiar café, which was pretty empty after the inevitable lunch rush.

Dean picked his way around the tables to aim for the bar, though he blinked when he saw the overgrown cook behind the counter. Benny flashed him a wide wide, giving him a nod of recognition.

“Well hey there, loverboy. Gotta say, it’s a lot nicer seeing you when you’re not in a compromising position.”

Dean snorted, but he shot the man an amused smile. “Shut up. Did Cas leave?”

Benny shook his head. “Nah, I’m just covering for him. He’s in the storage room.”

He waved Dean past the counter, and he made a beeline for the hallway. Cas was lifting bags of coffee beans down from a shelf, and Dean lingered in the doorway for a second before clearing his throat. Cas turned, his face lighting up when he saw Dean.

“Hey--I didn’t expect to see you today.” He dropped the bag on the table and came over, wrapping his arms around Dean to pull him in for a slow kiss. Dean melted up against him, his hand sliding up to brush against Cas’s cheek. 

When they finally pulled apart, Dean sighed. “Dad is coming back tonight. I know we’re supposed to hang out, but I don’t know what time he’ll be in so I just.. wanted to see you sooner. I don’t know if he’s going to make us leave or what, he doesn’t like to be tied to one place too long--”

Dean saw the flash of panic in his eyes before Cas was able to push it back down. He gave Dean’s waist a squeeze, frowning. “Hey.. it’s okay. Calm down. We can figure things out. Do you want to stay with me until I’m done here? I may be able to sneak out a little early, it’s been slow.”

He let his head roll forward, pressing their foreheads together as he nodded. “Can I..?”

“Definitely.” Cas offered him a fond smile, laughing. “Are you high?”

He cracked a smile at that, looking sheepish. “Maybe a little.”

Cas kissed the bridge of his nose and straightened up, heading over to the table to retrieve the coffee. “Come on, then--I’ll feed you.”

***

Cas leaned up against the counter, watching Dean work methodically through the massive omelette Benny sent out for him. He picked up his coffee, trying to ignore the growing sense of agony that had taken root when Dean mentioned leaving. It seemed impossibly cruel after so many blissful weeks together that it might be over soon. He couldn’t go back to before.

“Do you want anything else? I’m buying.” 

Dean swallowed his bite, shaking his head. “No, this is perfect.”

Cas eyed him knowingly before sliding a chocolate croissant across the bar, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Not even this?”

“..Okay, that’s fine. You know I can’t say no to this.” Dean smiled at him as he picked up the pastry to take a big bite. Cas worked his way through a few coffee orders that had come in, pausing every so often to look at Dean. He could tell he was upset, the slump to his shoulders had a definite look of defeat. He didn’t know what to do--he couldn’t exactly confront Mr. Winchester, though the more he found out about him, the more he just wanted to punch him for the way he treated his boys.

They chatted quietly for the next hour, stealing little touches and sharing smiles whenever they could, and when the clock struck, Cas finally stashed his suspenders under the counter and punched out. Dean was waiting for him near the door, and he waved to Benny as they headed out into the sunshine.

“This sucks.”

Cas looked over at him, reaching out to lace their fingers together. His car was parked down the block, and they started along the street in mutual silence. Cas finally broke his quiet at the corner, giving Dean’s hand a squeeze.

“Hey.. like I said, we’ll figure things out. I’m not just going to let you disappear.” 

He felt Dean’s fingers tighten, and he bumped him gently with his hip. Cas’s thoughts raced as they approached the car, impossible scenarios all fighting for attention in his head. He unlocked the car and they slid in. Dean watched as he turned the ignition and buckled up.

“Can we go to your place? Somewhere we can be alone?”

Cas nodded and eased the car into traffic. “If Gabriel’s there, I’ll kick him out. He’s probably out today, though.” 

They made their way across town, a comfortable silence between them as Dean gazed out the window. As predicted, Gabe was gone when they got back home, and they only took a minute before falling into bed together. Cas tried to memorize Dean’s face and body as they rocked together in the dim room, the quiet punctuated by soft gasps and moans. Afterwards, Dean tucked himself up against Cas’s side while he caught his breath, pressing his face against his shoulder.

His voice was muffled and mournful when he finally spoke. “I don’t want to go.” 

“You could stay here.” Cas swallowed the lump in his throat, eyes trained on the ceiling.

Dean lifted his head to look at Cas, nerves etched deeply on his face. Cas wanted to kiss the worry lines away; they were both too young to deal with that. “I wish I could. I should be there when he gets back. I don’t think he’ll want to leave immediately, and maybe I can talk him into staying a little longer--”

Cas leaned in to kiss him softly, sighing. A little longer wouldn’t be enough; Cas would always be the one left behind, because nothing ever worked out for him. “Just.. please don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

“I won’t--I would never do that. Cas, I don’t want to leave. For the first time, I feel like I’ve found somewhere I could stay.. somewhere to settle down, change my life.” He swallowed hard, his voice starting to thicken. “And that’s because of you. Believe me, I’ve never been this happy or--or felt so comfortable with myself. I feel whole.”

Cas closed his eyes, his arm tightening around Dean’s waist. Both men sat wordlessly for a long while, the enormity of Dean’s words echoing in the room. Cas felt like the air was being forced out of his lungs, but he was terrified that this was the end of things. He had been alone for too long, and in the end, he always ended up with his heart broken.

A few more minutes passed before Dean pushed himself up, gathering his clothes from the floor to get dressed. Cas pulled the sheet up over himself as he watched Dean; he could feel tears prickling behind his eyelids. 

“I can drive you back..” he began, but Dean shook his head. He pulled his shirt over his head and used the mirror over Cas’s dresser to straighten his hair. Cas wanted to beg him to stay, to cry, anything - but he felt frozen in place. 

Dean finally looked at him, his eyes starting to look a little pink. “It’s okay. He could be there when I get back; I don’t want you to have to deal with that. I’ll call you tonight..?”

Cas nodded. Dean hesitated for a second before coming over, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek. He headed out of the room, and Cas heard the front door open and shut a few seconds later. He drew in a shaky breath before lying back down, burrowing into sheets and blankets that still smelled like Dean. He just wanted to sleep.

***

The motel room had mercifully been cleaned by the time Dean’s bus made it back across town. He wouldn’t have to scramble to make it look presentable in time for John’s arrival. Sam came home shortly after, making a few attempts at conversation with his brother before curling up with a book. Dean’s foul mood was evident, he just hoped that his tears from the ride home weren’t obvious. 

It was dusk when they finally heard the Impala rumble into the parking lot. Dean unlocked the door before returning to his beer, picking at a crack in the formica table top. John strode in a moment later, his battered bag slung over his shoulder. He closed the door and checked the locks before tossing his bag onto the sofa, glancing between them.

“You boys all packed up?”

Sam frowned at him from over the top of his book. “We’re leaving already?” 

John walked over to the kitchenette, opening the fridge to root around. He opened a beer and went to sit at the table with Dean. “Hell no, I just drove three hours. We’ll get on the road early tomorrow, looks like there may be a case up in Okoboji, Iowa. Strange disappearances around the lake, from what I read.”

John turned his focus back to his beer, and Dean’s stomach gave a clench of anxiety. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, and he finally drew in a deep breath.

“Why don’t you and Sam look into it..? I could stick around here a little longer, make sure there aren’t any more hauntings to take care of.”

His dad shook his head. “No. I’m not heading down south again to pick you up. We’re all going.”

“Dude, I’m twenty. I’ll be fine on my own. I can hotwire a car and meet up with you later. I’m old enough to hunt on my own--”

John shot him a surprisingly shrewd look. “Why do you want to stay so bad?”

Dean was immediately alert. “I don’t. I just--it’s a good area.”

He noticed Sam watching them, his book momentarily forgotten. John cocked his head, raising his eyebrows as he stared Dean down. “Sounds like it’s more than that. Don’t tell me it’s that guy you’ve been hanging out with, the ‘friend’ you’ve mentioned.”

“No.” He felt a rush of nausea, and an ugly smirk darted over his father’s face. 

“Good, better not be. No son of mine--no hunter, for that matter--is gonna be a little queen. Now go pack up, both of you.”

Dean shoved his chair back, gulping down the last of his beer. His hands shook as he got his stuff packed away, making sure his drugs were well-hidden in the bag. He could tell the tips of his ears were bright red, and he felt eyes boring into his back as he finished packing. Sam was a few feet away folding his clothes when Dean stood up again, and he picked up the plastic ice bucket from the dresser, making a beeline for the door. 

“I’ll be right back.” He tucked it under his arm before his dad could protest and slipped out of the shabby room, walking down the sidewalk to the ice maker in the stairwell. He didn’t know why he tried to kid himself into thinking he could have a normal life. Or a happy one. There were obviously some things in life he couldn’t have and couldn’t expect to be. 

It was time to accept it. 

He filled up the ice bucket and set it on top of the machine, fishing his phone out of his pocket. It took him a few tries to unlock his phone, and he leaned up against the wall to steady himself. He thumbed through his contacts until he got to the only one who mattered, squeezing his eyes shut to steel himself. 

His message was short and perfunctory. hey Cas. apparently we’re leaving in AM for a case in Iowa.. oko-something, idk. Thank you for everything. 

Dean shoved his phone back in his pocket before he could re-read the message. He felt it buzz while he walked back to the room, but he didn’t have the heart to look. He needed to close his heart before he went inside again.

Early the next morning, the three Winchesters packed Baby and paid for the room with a stolen credit card before piling into the car. Dean’s phone had chimed several times the night before, but it was still in his pocket. He hadn’t checked his messages, but he did watch the rearview mirror for any sign of a familiar gold Lincoln until the motel was out of sight. Columbia grew small and shrunk behind them. Dean slumped in his seat as he felt another unjustly brief chapter slam shut in his stupid, shitty little life.

***

No matter how many times Cas read the text from Dean, it didn’t get any easier. He felt flayed open after a night of hard crying, still curled up in the bed they had shared the day before. It was mid-morning by the time he finally stopped, and he knew it was too late. The Winchesters would already be on the road by now, and even though Dean had promised not to leave without a proper goodbye, he could tell it was the end. 

He dragged himself out of bed to take a hot shower, letting the water soothe the tense muscles in his back. He felt like he was washing Dean away, and he didn’t know if that made it easier or harder to deal with. 

Cas felt quasi-human by the time he finished and dressed again. He could hear Gabriel rummaging around the kitchen, and he found he didn’t care if his brother destroyed his carefully organized apartment anymore. He draped his towel over the door and wandered down the hall; Gabriel was pouring a giant bowl of cereal when he realized someone was watching him.

“Was wondering if you were gonna get out of bed, bro.” He fixed a knowing look on Cas. “You know, crying that much probably isn’t healthy. You’re going to get dehydrated.”

Cas sighed and moved past him, fetching a bottle of water from the fridge. “Better?”

Gabriel was quiet for a second before tilting his head. “You know, it’s not too late. You should tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

“How you feel.”

Cas’s fingers tightened around the bottle as he took an agitated gulp. “It doesn’t matter, he’s gone now and I’m never going to fucking see him again. They travel a lot, they’re going to Iowa next.”

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Iowa is just a few hours away, y’know. And there’s, like, nothing there so you could speed. Where in Iowa..?”

“I don’t know. Ok-something. Oko? He didn’t remember either.”

Gabriel picked up his bowl to carry it into the living room, where a giant bong was ready and waiting on the coffee table. “Okoboji, probably? I’ve been there. It’s nice for Iowa.”

Cas grunted a response and downed the rest of his water, heading back to his bedroom. His heart panged when he saw the rumpled bedding. No matter how miserable he felt right now, it had all been very real - and astonishing. Before he realized what he was doing, he found himself dumping the textbooks out of his bag and shoving a few changes of clothing inside instead. He pulled up the maps on his phone as he packed; the route was pretty direct, and if he hurried, he could be there in seven hours. 

This is a stupid, impulsive thing to do. He left you. Give up. 

He forced the thoughts down in his mind, tucking his phone and keys in his pockets before slinging his bag over his shoulder. Gabriel waved from the couch as he rushed past, and if Cas didn’t know better, he could have sworn he heard his brother laughing. 

As his crappy car hurtled down the highway, Cas grew more and more nervous. Was this an awful idea? Dean had left without a second thought, but Cas knew that if he didn’t say something, he would regret it for years to come. The worst that would happen was.. well, he couldn’t think about that. He didn’t want to lose his nerve. 

***

Okoboji was pretty small. Cas made a few loops of the area before finding a street with a few run-down motels similar to the one the Winchesters had stayed in back in Columbia. It took a few tries before he spotted what he was looking for: a gleaming black muscle car sat in the parking lot, and Cas knew he was in the right place. He parked several spots away before cutting the engine. For a few agonizing minutes, he sat in the silent car and white-knuckled the steering wheel before finally picking up his phone. 

Dean hadn’t responded to a single one of his texts, but he hoped that he would finally see this one. 

Come outside. 

Cas watched the screen with bated breath, practically chewing a hole in the side of his cheek. It took a moment, but the telltale dots that indicated someone was typing popped up just under his words. The response - what??? - made him smile. His heart started pounding and he kept his eyes trained on the row of motel rooms.

It felt like an eternity passed before one of the doors swung open. Dean paused in the doorway to say something to the people inside before pulling the door shut behind him, looking around the parking lot. When his eyes fell on the gold Lincoln, he froze. Cas saw his mouth drop open, and he slowly climbed out of the car. 

Dean hurried across the parking lot to where Cas was standing. He looked like hell, which was exactly how Cas had felt all night. He offered Dean a hesitant smile, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Hi.”

Dean looked dumbfounded. “Cas--what are you doing here..?”

He shrugged. “Well, you weren’t answering your phone.”

“I know. I couldn’t, not after--not after how I left.” Dean took a tentative step closer, glancing over his shoulder quickly. There was an electricity between them that practically crackled when Cas stepped closer to Dean. 

He reached out to touch Dean’s wrist, sensing how skittish he felt. “If you don’t want me to stay, I understand.. I just need to tell you something first.”

Dean swallowed. “Oh, yeah?”

Cas nodded. His head was spinning and he felt like he might throw up, but he drew in a deep breath as he met Dean’s gaze. “Yeah. Only that I love you.”

A light breeze swept across the parking lot, ruffling Dean’s loose shirt as he gaped at Cas. Cas watched him, desperate for him to speak - or for a crack to open up in the ground to swallow him whole. When Dean didn’t respond, Cas deflated. He took a step back, feeling behind himself for the door handle.

“So, I’m gonna go--”

He hit the car door with force when Dean collided with him, mouth closing over his as his fists tightened around the front of Cas’s shirt. It took him a second to realize what was happening, and when he did, relief surged through his veins. They clung to each other like drowning men, kissing fiercely until they finally broke apart with a gasp.

“You love me?” Dean’s voice cracked with wonder when he finally spoke, sounding unsure. Cas wanted to punch whoever had destroyed his beautiful boy’s confidence, but more than that, he wanted to spend an eternity stitching him back together. 

Cas nodded, and a massive smile spread over Dean’s face. “I love you too--christ, Cas, I’m so sorry--”

He silenced Dean with another quick kiss, a relieved laugh bubbling up in his chest. “Don’t apologize. I understand. Now.. think you can sneak away for a little while?”

A cloud passed over the sun for a moment, bathing them both in an imperfect circle of shade. Dean nodded and took his phone out, typing a quick message before climbing into the passenger seat of Cas’s car. They would deal with John when they had to, Cas assumed. That was going to be awful, but Cas was determined not to let Dean get away a second time. 

But for now? Now they had a town to explore and a million things to say to each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, guys! This was not only my first big bang, but my first foray into SPN fic. Thank you to my art partner, @dmsilvisart! (Link to the artwork will be coming soon. :) ) Hope you enjoy!


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